


Harmless

by Bookwormgal



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ancient Egyptian Mythology, Clockwork Knows Everything, Clones, Complicated Relationships, Different Kinds Of Ghosts, Ember and Skulker Are Not A Stable Couple, Enemies Team Up Against Common Foe, F/M, Family, Fate Of The World At Stake, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Guilt, Holding a grudge, Jazz Playing Therapist, Mentions of Suicide Backstory, Minor Character Death, No One Is Useless, Omnicidal Maniac, Out-dated Slang, Post-Phantom Planet, References to Death In Backstory, Released Ancient Evil, Responsibility, Teenage Mayor, Teeth-Clenched Teamwork, Trust Issues, Tying Up Loose Ends Of Canon, Vlad Master Is A Bad Parent, Worldbuilding, kids in peril, lots of issues, planning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 95,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormgal/pseuds/Bookwormgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life begins to settle down for everyone after the near destruction of Earth. But someone can't leave things alone. Even gone from Earth, Vlad still leaves his influence behind in the form of one final deal. The Fright Knight accidentally unleashes a powerful and murderous evil, one from before King Pariah's reign. One that scares everyone, from the Box Ghost to the Observants. Who'll stop him? And can he even be stopped?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> As you probably guessed, I don't own "Danny Phantom." If I did, the third season would have been longer and a little less… jumbled. I'd also be rich, but that's not the point. I don't own them, I make no profit from this, and updates will be insanely slow. But I hope you'll enjoy anyway.
> 
> Oh, and this is after "Phantom Planet." Which means the secret's out, Vlad is MIA in space, Dani is wandering the world and no longer about to dissolve into goo, Tucker is mayor, Sam finally ended up with Danny, and things are for the most part pretty good. That means it is a perfect time to unleash something horrible to force some team-ups between former enemies, devise a dangerous plan with high risks, and have an underestimated hero show the villain that it isn't wise to ignore an apparently weaker threat. All the fun stuff! I hope you'll like it.

Deep within the Ghost Zone, isolated and out of the way of most specters who might stumble upon it, dwelt one of the more powerful beings in the realm. Some might call him _the_ most powerful, but he knew there were limitations to what he could and could not do. Just like there were limitations to what others could do. The trick was, in the end, figuring out how to use your abilities to do what was needed to overcome those limitations.

The ghost who dwelt in this particular corner of the Ghost Zone, for example, was both empowered and limited by his abilities. Wrapped in his cloak and observing the time stream with his bright red eyes as he shifted between different ages, Clockwork knew exactly what was coming. He knew what was coming in several possible futures. He knew which events would be turning points that could propel them towards a brighter reality or plunge both worlds into utter darkness. He knew which of the untold possibilities were most likely to come to pass without outside influence. Clockwork also knew that almost any of the thousands upon thousands ways he might try to help those involved would end with failure and, in many cases, his own destruction. Watching himself vanish from the timeline in hundreds of different manners was neither pleasant nor encouraging. It was one of the drawbacks of being the Ghost of Time, though.

He could, in theory, go back far enough to stop the coming disaster at the source. He wasn't supposed to interfere with the flow of events directly, but there were always loopholes that he could devise. But that was a more dangerous plan than the others. Not only would there be repercussions that would be difficult to manage properly, often leading to even worse futures if he made even the slightest error with his actions, but it was too easy to be tempted to make other changes. The more he interfered, the easier it became the next time. And Clockwork knew that he could easily become the worst threat to all of reality if he strayed too far down that path. He already could see those timelines where he used his power too freely and became corrupted. His limitations were partially due to his fear of what he could become; the knowledge of what he became in other timelines kept him from seeking out those loopholes and "cheating" that often.

No, the answers for the coming disaster weren't in the past. Nor were they technically in the present. The moment when he would have to act was in the near future. A small action, one that appeared at first to be meaningless, was all that he could risk. It should be enough to push events towards a more positive timeline.

Turning his attention away from the infinite timelines, Clockwork resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. He knew they were coming. He knew what they would undoubtedly say, though there were some variations between the timelines. They thought they knew what the best course of action was, but they could be surprisingly blind. They could see only the current and most probably timeline, not the alternatives or how little it might take to change something. They grew angry when he interfered with what they viewed as someone's free will, yet they would prefer to have a young teenage boy destroyed rather than take the time to ensure he remember there are consequences to his actions and give him the knowledge of what can happen if he loses his way. Second chances were not something that they believed in.

Two humanoid figures with giant eyeballs for heads entered the clock tower that he considered his home. The Observants lacked a proper face to hold an expression with, but he knew they were panicking at least slightly. They had even less freedom than him when it comes to affecting the world. That was why they wanted him to do their dirty work, even when their own knowledge of the timeline was too linear and limited to make such demands.

"He is going to wake up," the first Observant announced, skipping anything close to a greeting. "This cannot be allowed to occur."

"Unfortunately, it must happen," said Clockwork. "He will awaken regardless. It is better for it to occur now, when there are those who can and will combat him, than to postpone it to a time where he will be unhindered."

"You cannot be serious," the second Observant stated in shock. "You are the Ghost of Time. You cannot be so blind as to ignore what will happen if he is allowed free once more. Even if he has faded from memory of almost every other inhabitant of the Ghost Zone, you still remember him and what he is capable of. And if he wakes, it'll make the release of Pariah Dark look like an attack by that strange Box Ghost person."

Smiling knowingly to himself as he shifted from his adult form to child, he remarked, "I find it curious that you keep attempting to inform me of things I am already aware of. I recall both his initial actions before the rise of Pariah and all the timelines where he continued to grow in power instead of being stopped. I also can see the timelines where he awakened sooner than this and destroyed both worlds with ease. Just as clearly, I can see what will come to pass if he is prevented from awakening now. It may buy the Ghost Zone and the Human Realm some time, but it will still lead to their inevitable destruction. Now is the only point where he can awaken and be stopped permanently."

"How?" the first asked. "All we see is his victory. Action must be taken before it is too late. It took you and five of the other most powerful ghosts of that time to combat Pariah in the first place. And he is far worse than Pariah Dark. Do you believe that you can stop him yourself once he awakens?"

"I cannot," he replied, shifting into an old man as bent over and weary with age as he truly felt when the weight of all the timelines began to weigh him down. "I cannot stop him if I should face him directly. At best, I risk my destruction. At worst, I risk my corruption. But I know who can and will attempt to face him."

"Danny Phantom," the two Observants answered in unison, rolling their eyes in a manner than was mildly distracting considering the size of the eyeballs in question.

"We know that you seem rather… _fond_ of the boy," the first Observant said.

"I recognize his potential and the fact that his absence from the timeline would have made it worse in the long run," stated Clockwork firmly. "The Human Realm would be overwhelmed by the more chaotic ghosts, Vlad Plasmius would be still hunting for dangerous elements in the Ghost Zone that should be left well enough alone, and there would be no possibility of cooperation between humans and ghosts. There may not be many who would consider such things, even in the face of destruction, but the boy bridges that gap and opens possibilities. The Human Realm and the Ghost Zone depend upon the other to exist. The better futures are those that have the inhabitants remember that fact." Shifting back to his adult form, he continued, "Once he learns of the danger, he will almost certainly do everything in his power to stop him."

"We know that," the second Observant interrupted. "But he will fail. That is what we've seen."

Slowly, he nodded, "I know he will. I also know he will come to me for advice. That is where the change shall occur."

"What advice could you possibly give that will allow the boy to defeat someone like him? Someone you admit yourself that cannot be stopped by even the Ghost of Time. What could you say to him that will change what is to come?"

"I will tell him what he needs to know. No more and no less."

"Will it be enough?"asked the second Observant. "This is not an issue that should be taken lightly."

As he changed once more into an infant, Clockwork said calmly, "I know that even as a fourteen year old boy given powers he never expected to possess, he always found a way to do the right thing and to never truly accept failure. He will follow the advice because that is who he is."

"But will it be enough?" he repeated.

"If there is anything I know from observing the infinite timelines, it is the fact that even the smallest and most unlikely actions or people can make all the difference. Even when it seems like such an innocent or harmless act or individual, all of reality can shift."

* * *

Everyone knew that the Dis-asteroid changed everything, especially the inhabitants of Amity Park. Ghosts saved the world. How is that _not_ supposed to make a difference? Granted, most ghosts were still at least semi-malevolent towards the population, but it was concrete proof that they weren't all completely evil. Of course, there were plenty of people who already believed that once it became clear that Danny Phantom was trying to protect the citizens of the town.

Then, they learned that their ghostly defender wasn't quite as deceased as his opponents. The idea that Danny Phantom, the hero, was also Danny Fenton, the ordinary high school student, shocked everyone. They were stunned by the sheer impossibility of being half ghost and, those closer to him, were shocked that they couldn't figure out the connection sooner. Too many classmates went around the school for weeks, muttering under their breath about how stupid it was not to notice the similar names. Adding in the fact that Vlad Masters, their mayor, was also Vlad Plasmius and another half ghost only increased the confusion.

The loss of their mayor, the reveal of the identity of the town hero, and the near destruction of the entire planet was enough to make things complicated, but there were more changes as everyone tried to adapt. Tucker Foley became mayor even while balancing school. Those who complained about having a teenager in charge were quickly reminded that their last elected official was evil, so almost anyone would be an improvement. One of the first things that the new Mayor Tucker did was to pass a law prohibiting the Guys In White from setting foot within city limits. Even saving the world wasn't enough to completely extinguish the group's desire to drag Danny back to a lab. At least his family was no longer discussing the idea of ripping ghosts apart "molecule by molecule" quite as much. Valerie, while not yet willing to completely surrender her battle suit, kept some distance from Danny. She apparently surrendered her past hatred of Phantom and wanted to make amends for the past, but didn't seem quite ready to properly address that particular tangle of issues head on.

The celebrity status was a nightmare for a time since everyone wanted to see the heroic half ghost who helped save the world. While it was good for tourism, it was an annoyance for the teachers at Casper High School and the Fenton family started waving the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick at gathered crowds whenever they were forced to leave their home. Or, in the case of one individual in the household, turning invisible to escape. Privacy was a rare commodity for the moment. But even the flood of attention was beginning to slowly die down and Amity Park was settling down into a new form of normal.

The biggest change that came from the Dis-asteroid, as far as one individual was concerned, centered on the Goth girl that Danny was currently flying to the park with. Sam Manson was one of his best friends (along with Tucker), one of the first two people to learn about his transformation (again, with Tucker being the second), and someone he'd been in love with longer than either of them realized. She'd faced almost every kind of ghost that tried to pound him into the ground, offering support and assistance alongside Tucker. But while Tucker would always be one of his best and most loyal friends, even with his free time being stolen by his new job title, Sam was special. She wasn't someone he cared about because of her looks or popularity. He cared about her because she was… Sam. And he didn't know how long he might have waited to say anything or to admit it to himself if the Dis-asteroid didn't essentially knock some sense into him. Apparently everyone figured it out before the two of them.

She wasn't what was traditionally considered beautiful; at least that's what the other girls at the school always acted like until she won the beauty contest. Dressed in dark clothes and with black hair, she was surprisingly cheerful at times and merely held an interest in things beyond fashion and makeup. He was a black-haired blue-eyed human and a white-haired green-eyed ghost. Somehow, they fit together beyond the friendship they always held. But even admitting that their feelings weren't completely platonic, the strong bonds they built through that friendship still remained and only served to strengthen their new roles as girlfriend and boyfriend.

"I got a postcard from Danielle the other day," he remarked as the two of them reached their destination near the actual park of Amity Park. "Apparently she's traveling with Wulf of all people. She said she ran into him while exploring one day and he seemed to recognize her."

"She probably smells like you," Sam said. "He's also a good judge of character. So, when do you plan to tell your parents about your 'cousin'?"

Setting her down and changing back to his human form, Danny pointed out, "I wanted to let Mom and Dad get used to the idea of their son being half ghost before I introduce the idea that I have a younger female clone floating around who is also half ghost. You know, spread out the shocking revelations as much as possible."

"Not to mention it'll probably reignite your mom's desire to hunt Vlad down to make him sorry for every single thing he did as Plasmius," she muttered, taking a seat on the bench and indicating she wanted Danny to join her. "None of us really liked the guy, but I think she's going to hold a grudge about everything until the day that Skulker gives up hunting."

"Attacking your son and trying to repeatedly kill your husband apparently does that to a woman. I'm glad he's gone and out of all our lives. The only one who seems to hate him even more than her right now is Valerie. And maybe Dad."

Leaning closer to him, Sam added, "It certainly makes it easier to have him not making a mess of things or working on another plan. Sure, ghosts still show up and everything. But he isn't sending them after you or unleashing King Pariah again because he wanted power from a ring and crown or anything like that anymore."

"It does make things easier," he smiled, "for us to be alone together."

" _I_ am the Box Ghost!" a voice interrupted, causing the two humans to roll their eyes in annoyance. "Beware!"

Just as they expected, a bluish figure was floating above them. Dressed in overalls and holding his hands above his head, the Box Ghost glared at them menacingly. Or at least, as menacingly as he could manage. The only time he could actually pull off the intimidation thing was when he stole Pandora's Box, an action he'd been thoroughly discouraged from ever repeating. For the most part, he was considered one of the most harmless and annoying ghosts Danny had ever dealt with. And he just didn't know when to give up.

"Really? Is the universe that desperate to keep us from being alone together?" Danny muttered, standing up.

"Do not allow our past encounters to lull you into a false sense of security," the ghost stated, practically shouting as he floated in midair. "I have made it my goal to become even more terrifying and awe-inspiring than I was in our previous battles. It is only natural that you tremble in fear of the corrugated cardboard doom that awaits _you_."

"You do realize you're interrupting our date," Sam glared at the specter without even a hint of the requested fear. "Do you know _how_ hard it is to be completely alone when there are reporters just itching for a chance to snap the next front page photo of Danny? While the attention is great for encouraging people to buy eco-friendly cars and to go vegetarian, it isn't great when I want to just spend time with my boyfriend." She stood up and continued, "You have two choices. Go away and leave us alone or get sucked in the Fenton Thermos and stay in there for a week before being tossed back into the Ghost Zone. Either way, you're going to stop bothering us _now_."

Danny rather enjoyed the look of confusion, shock, and mild terror that spread across the Box Ghost's face at Sam's calm yet angry statement. She didn't usually let her temper flare up this quickly or strongly, but this was actually their third attempt that week at getting to be alone together that had been interrupted by someone. And it was only Tuesday.

Quietly, the specter mumbled, "Sorry. I didn't know you were on a date. I actually won the bet about when you'd get together."

"There was a bet?" Danny couldn't help himself from asking.

Regaining his previous volume, the Box Ghost announced, " _Yes_! Almost all of your past opponents who witnessed your behavior came together and discussed the length of time it would take for your infatuation to reach the point where denial became impossible. Eventually, we contemplated your interactions and estimated what we each believed would be required for you to end up together. _I_ was the one who was correct when I declared it would occur when the _entire_ Human Realm was in danger of being destroyed, such as what happened with the asteroid."

"Our love life was the gossip for the Ghost Zone," sighed Sam as Danny smacked his forehead. "It is official. _Everyone_ figured it out first."

"At one point, Skulker considered trying to give you advice to speed up the process so that he might win the bet before he succeeded in his efforts to 'strike you down and lay your pelt across the foot of his bed.' But since that would be cheating, the other ghosts threatened him if he should try," continued the Box Ghost.

"Dating advice from _Skulker_?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"He's dating Ember McLain," the specter added helpfully. "He has to be doing something right." Looking mildly embarrassed, he muttered, "I can't even talk to the Lunch Lady."

Remembering one of the ghosts from the future he'd met, Danny flinched involuntarily and groaned, "Okay, that is still 'ew'."

"Are we seriously having this discussion?" moaned Sam. "Look, I know you have this issue with realizing that _no one_ with any sense is scared of you and you seem to believe that ordinary boxes can be dangerous, but I think we're done for the day. Box Ghost, get out of here now or else I'll demonstrate why interrupting our date is a bad idea. Got it?"

Hesitating for a moment, the ghost glanced between the girl and the halfa who couldn't even bother to transform from his human form. The harmless villain looked briefly discouraged by her words and complete lack of fear. But that expression swiftly vanished as he threw his hands above his head again.

"Beware!" he shouted before flying away.

"Remind me to beat him up extra hard next time I run into him," Danny grinned evilly.

"No problem," she smiled, pulling her boyfriend back down on the bench.

* * *

The Ghost Zone was not for the faint of heart. It was a dangerous place if one was not careful. Natural portals that could connect to any time or place were scattered throughout and tiny pieces of solid land floated through the strange location. Some landmarks scattered through the dark dimension could be deadly and unpleasant to encounter. Others could simply be considered home to ghosts that could prove to be territorial or violent, the landscape shaping itself to reflect the will and desires of the most strong-willed inhabitants. The dimension, sharing a symbiotic connection to the Human Realm, was composed of variations of ectoplasm and thus was the ultimate source of all ghosts.

Ghosts weren't necessarily the souls of the dead, though the loss of human life could certainly spark their creation. One definition used to describe them was an "odd manifestation of ectoplasmic energy and post-human consciousness," but that was only one form and one way that they could come into existence. There was more variety to the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone than that.

Some ghosts were spontaneous creatures that emerged from the ectoplasm or were given form by other specters. Those tended to be the least human-like and often the least intelligent, though there were exceptions. Skulker, after all, was not the spirit of a living hunter, but a small green ghost who developed a battle suit to appear more humanoid and yet was as intelligent as any other specter. Given time, they could become smarter and grow more complex. Many, though, would remain as creatures that obeyed orders or acted on instinct rather than having a developed personality and mind.

Other times, a death of a particularly strong-willed person or one with strong emotions connected to the event would leave an echo of that person to form in the Ghost Zone, providing a template for their appearance, personality, and even occasionally memories. A ghost called Sidney Poindexter, for example, retained almost every memory of the human who once suffered so much bullying during his life and even managed to recreate the familiar school and inhabitants due to the strong emotions surrounding his demise. These ghosts were the closest to what was considered a "traditional" ghost. They weren't quite the souls of the deceased, but they were close enough for most people's definition.

The third type of ghosts was also spontaneous creatures that form from the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone, but were the result of human belief rather than by mere chance. Belief, like strong emotions and will power can leave echoes behind that are felt though the same bond that connects the Human Realm and Ghost Zone. Myths, legends, and folk stories that are told enough generate belief and can cause ghosts to take those forms. This can range from the creation of werewolf ghosts to Pandora of Greek mythology to anthromorphic personifications of complex subjects such as time, nature, and sleep.

One such ghost was now traveling to a particularly dark and deserted corner of the Ghost Zone, fulfilling his final deal with Vlad Plasmius. The Fright Knight, the spirit of Halloween and the embodiment of the fear that it can generate, was searching for a long-forgotten and very powerful entity. He'd been looking for him for quite some time. Possession of the Crown of Flames was useless without the ring and no one was willing to risk freeing King Pariah once more, so an alternative would have to be found. There were few ghosts that could be considered his equal in power, so there were few places where he couldn't search for an artifact that could be forced to work with the crown. He'd already tried every other location or ghost that might have something they could use with the Crown of Fire. Now he was left with no other option. He guided his steed, a nightmarish beast of flames and darkness, to a place that others feared to tread.

It was dark, far darker than any other corner of the Ghost Zone. The only source of light was the purple flames that came from the black-armored knight. The green glow that could be found anywhere else in the dimension was absent. No one should ever come to this place and the Fright Knight knew it. He was old enough to recall what happened. It was from before King Pariah rose to power. He could remember what lurked in the darkness and even he feared what would occur if the past repeated.

Moving further into the darkness cautiously, he watched for any hint of land floating in the shadowy area. If there were any artifacts of power hidden here, he would find them. He just hoped to remain undetected as he searched. After all, almost any ghost as powerful as the one that dwelled in this dark place would have to possess something strong enough to work with the crown and they could unleash its potential once more.

Working with Vlad for now, the Fright Knight knew he would be able to conquer the human world and take it as his own. He knew of the man's setbacks concerning the asteroid and hadn't heard from him since, but the Fright Knight held no doubts that he would return eventually and seek a way to recover from those failures. And that was what the ghost was counting on. The man might be powerful, but he would be easier to seize power from than it would be from King Pariah. Cooperation now would mean a simpler victory later. The hunt for power would be Vlad Plasmius' undoing. A single slash of his blade would send the halfa into an eternal nightmarish reality and the Fright Knight would be left to rule.

A small glimmer in the dark captured his attention. The light from the purple flames on his head seemed to be reflecting off something. And objects of power tended to be at least somewhat shiny. Since there were no other landmarks in sight and he didn't have any other ideas of where to look, he moved toward the glint of reflected light.

* * *

As Danny came down the stairs into the basement, he caught sight of his parents drawing up blueprints. Some things never changed and their obsession with ghost hunting and creating inventions to assist in their hunting remained just as strong as ever. They simply excluded the idea of adding "Danny Phantom" to their list of targets now. The Ghost Portal was rebuilt, the equipment from Vlad's home that wasn't taken into the custody of the Guys In White were collected, and new designs were drawn. But what else could he expect? At least he managed to convince his dad that they didn't have to do all ghost hunting together. Not to mention he could always use a few new tools when it came to fighting ghosts.

"What are you working on?" he asked, glancing at the design.

Wrapping an arm around his son with a wide grin on his face, Jack Fenton happily answered, "You'll love this. We've been studying the molecular properties of ectoplasm and how it manages to mimic and interact with normal matter. And considering that ghosts are made of the stuff, we're finding plenty of practical uses for that knowledge."

"For example, we have theorized that it would be possible to disrupt the process that allows ghosts to manifest and destabilize it enough to return the ectoplasm into the natural state of unspecialized goo," continued Maddie Fenton, equally excited about what they were designing. "It would take some time, but it might be possible to create a devise that could do that to every ghost within range."

"I'm calling it the 'Fenton Ghost Disruption Bomb.' Takes out anything made of ectoplasm without causing any other damage. What do you think?" Jack asked excitedly.

Danny took a calming breath as he stared at his jumpsuit-wearing parents. While he was beyond happy that they handled the news of him being half ghost so well and didn't treat their son different because of it, they did still have trouble seeming to remember how their comments might sound to someone who wasn't completely human. Even after allowing them a few (non-painful) experiments to satisfy their curiosity. And while his grades would never be the best, he'd been deciphering ghost gibberish from them his whole life and could decode it into plain English when necessary.

"Guys, I love you and everything, but I'm honestly not excited about you designing an explosion. Let alone one that will pretty much rip apart any ghost 'molecule by molecule' and dissolve them into a puddle of goo," the boy remarked casually. "I've seen what that looks like and it isn't very pretty. And I'm not eager for an encore."

It took only an instant for the pair to go from excited scientists to ashamed parents. He didn't want to make them feel guilty about everything, but it was bad enough watching Vlad's collection of clones degenerate into ectoplasm and Dani almost sharing that fate. He didn't have a problem trapping ghosts and tossing them back into the Ghost Zone. Destroying them wasn't something he was eager to do, though. Great power, great responsibility, and great amounts of guilt if he started going down a darker road.

"I guess that one will have to go on the backburner for awhile then," Jack said uncomfortably.

"But we can at least continue the research into ectoplasm," his wife commented, trying to cheer him up. "I'm sure there are plenty of other applications for this information."

"Yeah," he shrugged before turning his attention back towards his son. "So, did you and Sam have a good time?"

Smiling slightly, he answered, "We did. At least, we did once we got rid of an annoying pest."

* * *

The glimmer he'd seen appeared to be golden orb, the size of a pumpkin, which was floating in the middle of the suffocating darkness. The Fright Knight studied the shape carefully. There were no symbols, engravings, or other hints of what the purpose might be. While he could recall the days before Pariah Dark took over as king, he didn't witness or know all that occurred during that time. He didn't remember any stories about a golden orb. But he could feel power radiating from it, more than enough power to be of use. Surely there would be a way to use the object with the Crown of Fire in order to assure success.

For a moment, something deep inside the specter shrieked at him not to touch it. Common sense, the ability to identify who the best ally in a situation might be, and several surprising defeats seemed to have banded together in his mind to warn him away from this action. Perhaps risking the wrath of King Pariah would be wiser and safer. Even the certainty of awakening him might be better than the mere possibility of rousing what dwelt in this dark place.

Then, shoving away those doubts, the Fright Knight reached out towards the object. It was just a harmless golden orb. He was a powerful ghost, the very spirit of Halloween. Fear was something that he caused others, not something he experienced himself. Nothing and no one could stand in his way. He would claim the artifact as his own, take it back and present it to Vlad so they could use it to unlock the power of the Crown of Fire, and take over and rule.

As soon as his hand touched the sphere, it shattered into dust and the darkness around him seemed to deepen. His steed began to panic and struggle under his control, but the Fright Knight knew it was already too late.

In front of him, deep in the incredible blackness that surrounded him, a giant pair of red eyes opened and saw him.

* * *

In the frozen wastelands of the Ghost Zone, where the yetis made their home and the Infi-map was kept safe, it was peaceful. Not all parts of the dimension were chaotic and malevolent. And not all inhabitants of the Ghost Zone considered Danny Phantom to be an enemy. Frostbite and his people considered "the Great One" to be a hero for his defeat of Pariah Dark and would always welcome him.

But the general peace was shattered as Frostbite felt it. He'd never experienced anything like it before, but he'd heard stories. And as he saw every other yeti in sight react in the same way, he knew he was right.

* * *

In his clock tower, even with the knowledge that it was coming, Clockwork shivered slightly as he felt it.

* * *

Nicolai Technus, Master of Technology, was relaxing in his particular piece of the Ghost Zone. Part of his territory resembled a high-tech lab similar to the one that he might have possessed in life. Or at least, in the life of the human Technus whose death caused the formation of the ghost one. Either way, he was proud of his lab and enjoyed spending time there when he wasn't attacking the human world with technology.

Then it hit him, suddenly and unexplainably. Every piece of technology held in midair by his power crashed to the ground as he lost his concentration. While he might have no proof of it, he knew what he felt was only the beginning.

* * *

"I hope you do better on our next date, dipstick," muttered Ember McLain darkly as she glared at her likely-to-soon-be- _ex_ -boyfriend. "Because, as fascinating as it is to watch you blow up cardboard cutouts of Danny Phantom, I generally have different ideas of how to have a good time."

The large, mechanical figure with flaming green hair glared briefly at the diva with the blue flaming hair and a guitar. Their relationship was practically the definition of volatile. The only reason they even became boyfriend and girlfriend in the first place was because they ended up stuck in the Fenton Thermos together over a weekend.

"You'll change your tune once the Ghost Child's pelt is draped across my bed and I give you his decapitated head as gift," Skulker stated.

Before she could comment on the unlikelihood of that ever coming to pass, she felt it and almost staggered to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skulker grimacing and clutching the side of his head.

"You feel that?" she asked, almost certain of the answer.

Hesitantly, he nodded, "Do you know what it means?"

"I heard rumors," Ember said. "What do we do?"

While they weren't the most affectionate couple in the Ghost Zone, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. He didn't, however, answer.

* * *

Two figures were sleeping in a cave. While they occupied the human world, neither one was completely human. The larger one was furry and wolf-like. The smallest of the pair, leaning against her companion as she slept, appeared to be a black-haired girl of approximately twelve years of age. While the more animalistic-appearing figure was a ghost who could tear portals between the Human Realm and the Ghost Zone, the girl was the greater oddity. She was a clone, far younger than she looked, and a halfa.

Their sound sleep was shattered as they felt it, even through the barrier between the two dimensions. It sent the larger wolf-like figure into attack mode, snarling and looking for the threat, and the girl awoke screaming.

His fur still raised, he managed to mutter something his companion didn't understand. The language barrier was a slight issue for the traveling companions, but he understand her and she was working on teaching him English slowly and could guess meanings the rest of the time.

"I'm fine, Wulf," she assured him. "What _was_ that?"

"Danĝero," he told her, the word close enough in his language for her to understand.

"Danger, huh?" she shivered. "I guessed that much."

* * *

Trying to shake off the remnants of his darker mood at the proof that even powerless, normal humans didn't fear him, the Box Ghost lurked around a warehouse packed with various boxes. While the selection wasn't as impressive in his opinion as his collection in the Ghost Zone, he did enjoy the various boxes that were just waiting for him to examine closer. At the moment, there were no humans around to witness the numerous cardboard containers floating in midair, but that also meant he didn't have to find out if they would actually fear him or simply tell him to leave too.

Then he felt it and every box fell to the ground at once as he released a short scream. He couldn't believe it and hoped for a second that he was mistaken, though he knew better than that. And while he felt mildly safer with the knowledge he was in the human world instead of the Ghost Zone, he knew that wouldn't protect him for long.

* * *

The loss of Vlad Masters made the ownership of Axion Labs very uncertain for a time. But after examining several lesser-known bylaws concerning the labs (and being very surprised to learn that there was an established procedure of what to do when the owner of the company turned out to be a ghost), it was determined that Dr. Damon Gray was the most qualified to take control and that there wasn't anything in place that could dispute that decision. He also took possession of a cat that apparently went by the name of "Maddie," but that was only because someone had to. And while he tried to discourage his daughter, Valerie, from taking part in too many dangerous battles with ghosts, he wasn't above using the research and technology from the labs to ensure she was safe whenever she did go against his wishes.

So he kept an eye on the information sent back by the probe that was launched into the Ghost Zone during that time where all of Amity Park was pulled into the dimension by an entity called King Pariah. What he wasn't prepared for, however, was when the nearly steady flood of information transmitted across the barrier abruptly spiked and set off numerous alarms. Then, all transmissions ceased as the probe apparently overloaded completely. Dr. Gray stared at the screen for several seconds, a sense of foreboding beginning to rise as he wondered what could have caused that reaction.

* * *

Danny, about to share his and Sam's short encounter with the Box Ghost, abruptly felt something that sent him stumbling and caused his parents to look at him with alarm. Some of it was like his ghost sense and he could even see his breath, but it was like his ghost sense was on overdrive and there was an icy chunk where his heart should be. But there was more to it than that. It reminded him of being punched in the gut, so sudden and overwhelming that it took his breath away. He was hit with waves of fear, horror, dread, terror, and undeniable knowledge that he couldn't escape. There was nothing physical about what he felt. It was all emotions and concepts that blocked out momentarily the rest of the world around him, his parents worried questions barely reaching him through the haze of shock and panic. He could feel it all the way down to his core. Something horrible was coming. Something that couldn't be stopped, couldn't be contained, and couldn't be defeated.

Almost as quickly as it hit him, the feelings and sensations faded. Not completely, though. There was still a sense of doom that tickled at the back of his mind, but it no longer felt like it was trying to knock him off his feet.

"Danny, are you all right?" his mom said, something in her concerned voice telling him that she'd asked that question several times already. "What happened?"

Shakily, he replied, "I don't know. But something bad either just happened or is about to."

* * *

Far from home, alone and unloved, he pondered what to do with the remainder of his existence. His surroundings, while beautiful with all the stars glowing in the darkness, only served to remind him of how much he'd lost in his hunt for more. Greed, pride, lust, envy, wrath, and every other vice he possessed lead him to this path and now he had nothing and no one in his life. The silence and isolation was enough to drive a man mad. Or to let him recover his sanity enough to recognize what he gave up in his quest for a love he could never truly have. Wouldn't it have been better to have something rather than _nothing_?

It hit him, even this far away from everything else. His interest in powerful artifacts meant he knew even the stories that were rarely remembered. He knew what he felt and he could guess what it meant.

The question, however, was did he care? Out in the middle of nowhere, he was in no danger. For once, his self-caused banishment was a good thing. There was no threat to him and there was nothing left he could lose. Right?

Shivering slightly as he tried to shrug off the sensations he'd just experienced, he turned his bright red eyes towards the infinite stars above him as if he expected them to spell out the answers he needed.

* * *

The Fright Knight felt it as the red eyes opened and knew he'd awakened the last being that he'd ever hoped to see. Fear as he'd never experienced before wrapped around the specter as he met the red-eyed gaze. He raised his blade defiantly, refusing to surrender without a fight. His bat-winged horse still fought for control as it tried to flee, but the ghost still possessed enough pride that he would rather face his death than try escaping someone he couldn't.

Death was not something easily experienced by ghosts. Those who were echoes of once mortal creatures knew the sensation, but the others could only imagine. Aging was a tricky business in the Ghost Zone and injuries healed far quicker and easier than those experienced by humans. But it was still something that could occur in the right circumstances, just as permanent injuries could be obtained.

Black tendrils burst out of the darkness and stabbed at Fright Knight and his steed, ignoring his attempts to fight them off by slicing at them with his blade. While the sword held the potential to banish victims to a dimension crafted from their worst fears, pure spectral strength can overcome more specialized powers. The black tendrils struck true and a flash of dark energy erupted from within the ghost once known as the spirit of Halloween. Both the Fright Knight and his winged horse were destroyed, breaking apart into pure ectoplasm that dissolved away into the rest of the Ghost Zone.

Bored already with his efforts and dismissing his short-lived opponent, the red eyes turned their gaze away and began to search for something more interesting. It was time to wake up and see what had changed, after all.


	2. Team Phantom

While college seemed so close now and she'd been preparing for years in order to make the most of the experience, Jazz Fenton couldn't help wondering if now was the best time for it. While her little brother could certainly take care of himself and her parents now knew the truth about their son, she didn't know if it felt right to leave yet.

Part of it she knew was her mild case of Ghost Envy. She understood perfectly why she would feel that way considering her parents obsession with ghosts during her entire childhood to the point where there were rare occasions where she wondered how much they could care about her since she wasn't one. Not to mention her brother _was_ part ghost, which added a whole new dimension to everything. But she refused to be jealous of the increase in attention that Danny received once they learned the truth and she'd been working on managing her slight Ghost Envy by bonding with her parents and reassuring herself that they did care about her more than their obsession. So while Ghost Envy and a desire to hold on to some of her family's attention might be part of her reluctance to leave home, Jazz knew it wasn't all of it.

She wanted to be involved. Her brother was propelled into being a celebrity by helping save the world. The whole Fenton family received recognition from the Dis-asteroid incident, but he was being hit by the brunt of it. Her knowledge of child psychology and her big sister instinct urged her to help keep an eye on him just in case this started to be too much for him to handle alone. At least until she was certain everything was settled down, Jazz wanted to be within easy reach. She, Sam, Tucker, their parents, and everyone else would eagerly offer him all the support they could. That would never change. And once she was certain that he could deal with his new fame and his ghost hunting without his big sister, she'd back off and let him live his life. Until then, there were community colleges and on-line classes she could take so that she would always be around to lend a sympathetic ear. It wouldn't be too hard to get her basic courses while living at home, after all.

The red-head teenager pulled her familiar teddy bear, Bearbert Einstein, closer as she began flipping through one of her textbooks that she would need for her college classes. There was no harm, after all, in getting an early start on her required reading. The numerous psychology classes she planned to take while in college would have plenty for her to learn.

While once she'd considered a focus on child psychology with her studies, Jazz now felt the urge to go in a slightly different direction. She was developing an interest in paranormal-based psychology; specifically, she was focused on helping people deal with ghosts and possibly helping ghosts too if they would let her. Her college entrance thesis on Ghost Envy was something she was extremely proud of and she'd enjoyed writing it. Plenty of people were developing paranoia and phobias that seem to stem from the rise in ghost sightings. Furthermore, helping Danny was something she'd been trying to do in one form or another for their entire lives and him becoming part ghost gave her more issues in his life that she wanted to help him deal with. Add in the fact that Vlad was, in the words of her brother, "one seriously crazed up fruit-loop" and the ghosts Danny fought didn't always seem completely sane… Well, she could certainly do a lot with the field and she was certainly that she could offer more insight than the average psychologist. She was raised by crazy people with issues concerning ghosts and was the sister of a halfa, after all. She could teach a class already at Yale about the insanity that can be found around ghosts.

Her reflections on her future and how her family's business of ghosts may or may not factor into her career were abruptly derailed by the muffled sounds of her parents' worried voices. The fact she could hear them through two floors and the extreme shielding of the lab told her that they were yelling and things were very bad. The teenager bolted for the door of her room and ran to the stairs.

By the time she scrambled into the basement, Jazz was relieved to see that no one seemed to be hurt. Granted, her mom and dad were practically hovering around Danny, concern clearly painted on their faces, and her brother looked rather shaken, but no one was under attack and no one was leaking blood or ectoplasm. She took a moment to draw reassurance from that before diving right into the middle of things.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Danny responded hesitantly. "It was like someone cranked up my ghost sense to full power while shoving a distilled form of a horror movie marathon into my head at the same time. I don't know what it means, but I know it can't be good."

"You don't think you could be getting sick, do you?" Maddie asked, looking torn between placing her hand on his forehead to check his temperature and breaking out the ghost equipment to figure out if there was something wrong with the other half of her son.

As he opened his mouth, a pair of horrified screams erupted and two spectral vultures flew out of the Ghost Portal. Without sparing even a moment to look at the humans in the room, they took towards the skies and phased straight through the basement ceiling. A glowing green octopus quickly followed suit with a panicked look on its inhuman face. Finally, a large plant-like ghost that she recognized as Undergrowth poked his head through the portal, spotted something on the workbench, reached through, and deliberately sucked himself into the Fenton Thermos with a look of relief.

"And that wasn't ominous _whatsoever_ ," Danny muttered after staring at the spectacle for several moments.

"I have a feeling it wasn't just you," commented Jazz uneasily.

Their father, gaining an annoyed look on his face, marched over to the Ghost Portal and yelled, "Hey, this isn't a public service for all ghosts. Build your own portal and stop using ours."

"Something is definitely wrong," the dark-haired boy stated, staring at the portal. "They looked terrified. _Undergrowth_ looked scared. He's a giant unstoppable plant ghost. What scares him?"

"Weed killer?" suggested Jack, still eyeing the Ghost Portal suspiciously.

"What are you thinking, Sweetie?" Maddie asked.

"I'm thinking this is only the start. Remember when all those ghosts tried to escape Pariah Dark? Even though there were more coming through then, I don't remember them being so completely terrified. I mean, they even paused at least long enough to beat me up. These guys didn't even care we were here," he explained, gesturing at the portal and thermos as he spoke. "Something is coming. Something horrible. We need to prepare and we need answers."

He glanced at his sister and she gave him a supportive smile. She knew what Danny would need her to do. Being in two places at once was a skill that still eluded her brother, so he needed people who knew how to handle what he couldn't do personally. Jazz could at least do that much for him.

"I'll call Tucker and have him put out a mild ghost warning, call Sam and have her bring over possible research material, and I'll ask both to come over as soon as possible," she nodded. "We'll break out the ghost weaponry in the meantime just in case someone tries to do more than run away in panic."

"Better call Valerie too. She doesn't have to come over if she doesn't want to, but she deserves a heads up if things are about to get bad," he suggested.

"And what will you be doing while Jazz calls everyone?" asked Jack, tearing his attention away from the portal and towards his son with a look that hinted he was beginning to recognize that Danny planned on diving headfirst into something dangerous.

He gave his father a reassuring smile, "I'm just looking for some answers about what just happened and if it has something to do with freaking out the other ghosts."

"And where are you getting those answers?" asked Maddie, her parental instincts kicking in as well.

"Relax," he smiled. "I'm just going into another dimension inhabited by ghosts, who just rushed out in terror, in order to question either a yeti or the master of time. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I suggest Clockwork," said Jazz, remember his notes on different ghosts. "He seems to like you and he'll definitely know the answers. Frostbite might not. He isn't omniscient, after all."

"You know, normal families don't have these conversations," he muttered before giving his parents another reassuring grin. "I'll be fine. They're actually very nice. Granted, Clockwork was supposed to get rid of me to prevent a certain timeline at one point, but he didn't. See? Nice guy. I'll be perfectly safe. Trust me."

"We do," Maddie answered. "Completely."

Jazz wondered if her parents knew how much those words meant to her brother, especially after so much time hiding a secret from them no fourteen year old should. Somehow, between the honest smile that materialized on his face and the worried, but proud looks on their faces, she felt fairly certain they did.

Without having to hide or make excuses, Danny firmly announced, "I'm going ghost."

Rings of energy moved across her brother's body, shifting him from a superficially carbon-based life form to one with ectoplasm as the building blocks. A black jumpsuit with the white symbol replaced his ordinary clothes, his dark hair became snow white, and his bright blue eyes became a shade of green that literally glowed. But even with the changes, she could still see the brother she loved and was proud of. Some days, she was surprised that so few people saw the similarity between Fenton and Phantom before they were told the truth. The only things she could figure out was that the confidence and bravery of Phantom took longer to be seen in Fenton, but the two began to bleed together in her mind long before she told him she knew his secret. So even with the ghostly hero standing there proudly able to share his true self with the people who matter to him, Jazz could just see Danny.

"I'll be back before you know it," he assured before diving into the Ghost Zone, his legs shifting into a ghostly tail as he disappeared from sight.

"He'll be fine," the teenager said quietly before heading back towards the stairs. "He can take care of himself."

Jazz knew her parents would be worried. They weren't used to the idea of their son battling dangerous ghosts and being in harm's way while they were standing mostly on the sidelines. It wasn't easy to handle. Jazz knew that. Even after all this time, she still worried about her little brother. Some things never change.

* * *

Tucker used to dream of having power, adulation, and being important. That desire began to burn brighter when his best friend became a superhero, but it began to seem that the spotlight was simply not meant for him. Then the Dis-asteroid happened and he was organizing resources from different nations in order to ensure the plan worked. He was rather surprised to learn he was good at it. Afterwards, he managed to somehow graduate from loser student techno-geek to _mayor_ student techno-geek. He finally had power, adulation, influence, and almost everything he'd ever dreamed of. And he'd already decided not to run for a second term if he could help it.

While some of it was fun (like giving speeches people actually listened to) or important (like keeping the Guys In White at bay and ensuring that Danny's role as protector of Amity Park was officially recognized), the rest of the job was tedious and annoying. Most of his free time was gone, he didn't get to see his friends as much as he wanted to, and his new title came with more paperwork and boring meetings than he could count. Plus, he still had homework and a curfew his parents expected him to follow. Shouldn't the town leader get some leniency? He was already carrying the weight of the population of Amity Park on his shoulders and he didn't even get supermodels to cheer him on.

Glaring at a pile of paper that was supposed to convince him to cut school funding for technology purposes (like he'd ever sign anything anti-technology), Tucker began wishing for heat beam eyes. Burning the paperwork sounded so appealing sometimes. Of course, Sam would prefer it to be recycled and put to use as something beneficial, but watching the bureaucracy, politics, and general paperwork go up in flames would be so much more satisfying.

His mildly pyromaniac thoughts were interrupted by the sweet sounds of technology. Since his cell phone ringing would always win priority over daydreams of setting annoying paperwork aflame, he shoved his red beret back into place and answered his phone even as his grumpy and dowdy assistant glared at him.

"This is Mayor Tucker Foley, the youngest mayor of Amity Park and the surprisingly single young man available for any attractive ladies in need of a date," he greeted. "Can I help you?"

"Tucker, it's Jazz," the voice at the other end of the line stated. "We may have a slight ghost problem."

His mood quickly becoming more serious and his attention properly captured, he shifted out of his relaxed posture behind his desk and asked, "Could you define 'slight' in this case?"

"Something he can't explained freaked out Danny's ghost sense and almost immediately afterwards several ghosts dove out of the Ghost Portal like they were escaping the plague," she answered, her tone utterly flat. "We currently have Undergrowth hiding in the Fenton Thermos."

"That's a little more than 'slight' in my opinion," he responded, snatching up his PDA in his free hand.

"They aren't attacking. They're just running for their lives. Or afterlives. Whatever. Danny went looking for answers," continued Jazz. "And while they don't seem to be concerned with attacking right now, we thought you might want to put out a low-level warning since there are several ghosts in Amity Park at the moment and we don't need to cause a panic."

"At least until we know exactly how much we should be panicking," said Tucker, nodding to himself as he began pulling up familiar pages of information on his PDA. "Just between us, how bad do you guess this is going to be? On a scale from one to ten, with one being the Box Ghost and ten being King Pariah tag-teaming with the Dis-asteroid."

"Right now, it looks like a one or two. But between the behavior of the ghosts and my protective big sister sense, I think we're going to have an eight or nine at a minimum. Though I'll be very surprised if we don't at least have 'Amity Park pulled into the Ghost Zone again' level of bad by the end."

Trying to refrain from flinching at the older girl's prediction, he asked, "Want me to come over?"

"After you give a basic warning, yes. Mom and Dad are gathering the weaponry into easy reach and Danny's gone for the moment, but we should be ready by the time you're here. No matter what, Team Phantom will be prepared for it."

"You can count on me, General Jasmine," he grinned, resisting the urge to salute to the cell phone in his hand before ending the call. Turning towards his very confused assistant and still working on his PDA, he said, "Vicky, cancel all my appointments until further notice, tell them to go ahead with the request for funds for the school's technology, tell the Department of Power that the Fenton household may have to use most of the city's power in the near future and the electric companies should be prepared, call my parents and tell them I'm hanging out at Danny's, and set the Ghost Threat Level at One. Oh, and preorder that new upgrade for my PDA that's coming out next week. I don't want to miss it."

"I don't get paid enough for this," she muttered under her breath, but the assistant proceeded to follow his directions.

One of the smartest things that the citizens of Amity Park ever did was agree on safety protocols for ghost problems and Tucker continued to build on those. That included installing Fenton Ghost Shields to protect the high school, the mall, Axion Labs, and an emergency bunker that was currently under construction at the moment. The locations were scattered across the city and offered plenty of space for the population to take shelter against ghost attacks. There was also a plan in place to move the elementary and middle school students to Casper High during serious emergencies. There was ghost insurance that could be bought to cover damages to someone's home, car, or mental health. But most important, there was a grading system of warnings so the population could easily know if they should just keep an eye out for floating objects, stay in their homes, or even run to the closest Ghost Shield.

Level One was considered rather ordinary by this point and wouldn't alarm anyone. They would simply be prepared if they bumped into a ghost somewhere in town. Level Five would basically be Pariah Dark and his skeleton army showing up again. Tucker desperately hoped it wouldn't come to that. Being mayor of this town wasn't for the faint of heart.

* * *

Sam absently toyed with the ring on her finger as she debated with herself about which film to watch. She'd seen most of the slasher movies in her collection recently and the more supernatural ones were too much like her daily life. And she'd claw out her own eyeballs before she sat through that vampire love story, "Late Evening," that her mother kept insisting was a reasonable compromise between romance and "that dark, depressing stuff Sammy-kins likes." It was badly written, the main girl was useless and pathetic, and the whole thing was just an excuse for the whiney vampire boy to hate himself and the whiney girl to uselessly obsess over him while neither of them demonstrated any personality beyond their insane love for each other. It was just so shallow and demeaning. No wonder Paulina loved the series; she'd even taken the time to read the book too.

About to settle for a generic action flick, but at least one with a strong female role, the television abruptly changed to a news break and Lance Thunder appeared on the screen.

"Mayor Foley has declared Amity Park in a state of Ghost Threat Level One," he announced. "For those who don't know, that means there has been a confirmed sighting or high probability of a ghost within city limits. There have been no indication of violent intent towards humans at the time or there is evidence that the specter is only interested in property damage on the minor scale and/or minor scare tactics. While there is no reason to change your routine for a Level One situation, be alert in case the ghost's behavior changes and be prepared to encounter the ghost just in case. Please use common sense. Do not approach a ghost, especially an unknown ghost. Do not attempt to become involved in a battle between ghosts. The best thing you can do is to stay out of the way of those who know how to handle ghosts. You will only get in the way of their efforts. I repeat, Amity Park is currently in a state of Ghost Threat Level One."

The report barely ended before her phone rang. Guessing that the two events might be related, Sam quickly answered it.

"Danny?" she asked.

"Jazz, actually," the voice at the other end of the line corrected. "We have a situation."

"I saw the news. A Level One on the Ghost Threat scale isn't a situation. That's a Tuesday night for us."

"It's actually a little more complicated than what the news report mentioned," the older girl remarked. "We don't know ourselves for certain what it is though."

"When _do_ we? What do you need, research-wise?" Sam asked, mentally reviewing her collection of supernatural, mythological, and general dark Gothic topics that could be insightful in regards to unknown ghost problems.

"Something that could send ghosts running in terror," said Jazz. "Beyond that, we'll have to wait for Danny to get back with answers."

"Where is he?" she asked, frowning as she headed towards her room.

"He went to talk to Clockwork. Sam, I'm not sure what's going on and it really doesn't look that bad yet, but it feels like something horrible is coming. I don't have a ghost sense or anything, but I know those ghosts were completely terrified. They ignored the whole Fenton family in the basement. Not to mention Danny's ghost sense went crazy before they showed up. I keep remember King Pariah and it feels like history repeating."

Snatching up promising-looking books and shoving them into her spider-shaped backpack, Sam said, "No one would be stupid enough to wake him up again, right?"

"Never underestimate the power of stupidity," muttered the older girl. "But we'll figure this out either way."

"Too bad the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton was destroyed. If it turns out to be Pariah's revenge or something, it would have been nice to have a back-up plan."

"Blame Vlad. He stole it, so we sort of destroyed it," Jazz stated. "So you'll come over?"

Smiling, Sam answered, "As soon as I can convince my grandma to play decoy for my parents."

"Don't get into too much trouble," warned the older girl over the phone. "Danny should be back close to when you arrive."

"Got it," she answered before hanging up the phone.

Yanking on her backpack, the Goth girl paused long enough to pull the Fenton Wrist Rays out of a drawer and strapped them firmly in place. They were the perfect accessory… of _pain_. Of course, they were only her second favorite accessory, but the "Wes" ring couldn't combat ghosts. Besides, the wrist-worn weapons went better with the Fenton Phones she quickly added to the ensemble like a pair of high-tech earrings. All she was missing was the Fenton Thermos to complete the ghost-hunting image.

"And Pauline says I can't be fashionable," she smirked, taking one final moment to admire the Fenton Wrist Rays before heading out the door.

* * *

Sneaking out to deal with ghost problems wasn't as easy as it used to be back when she first started, but Valerie refused to be completely stopped. Granted, she'd been cutting back some after meeting Dani and having her black and white worldview shaken. Then Vlad Masters, her original benefactor, turned out to be a ghost too and later tried to hold the planet for ransom essentially. If she ever needed proof that she hated being used and manipulated by someone, the mayor transforming in front of a crowd of people with a smug grin certainly gave her more than enough. Finally, learning that Fenton and Phantom were the same person put all of her patrols on hold for a while.

Black and white didn't work anymore. She couldn't draw a clear line of good and evil based on whether or not they were ghosts. While she found the term "halfa" to be rather uncreative, it did explain her problem. At least three people she knew were only half ghost. She could consider them half evil and decide that was enough to be on her wanted list, but they weren't just strangers. They were people she knew. Dani was just a little girl, spirited and sort of spunky, but still nice. Vlad was obviously a lying, manipulative, heartless monster who didn't seem to care about hurting people once she saw past the polite and friendly façade. And Phantom himself…

Danny was the most complicated. She knew he and the dog ghost caused her father to be fired and she blamed him for a long time for the destruction of everything in her life. She hated the ghost boy and did her best to wipe him out of existence. Though, she grudgingly admitted at different points that he seemed to be trying to help and to talk sense into her. Her determined hatred and certainty of his crimes sustained her pursuit of Phantom long past the point she should have seen that he wasn't like other ghosts. But Danny, the human, was almost the opposite. He was a nice guy, easy to get along with, funny, and almost painfully normal while still being interesting. Dating him was rather fun, even though she eventually called it off to protect him (and to let him and Sam figure out they belonged together). Who knew that the enemy and her ex-boyfriend were the same person? She both hated and liked him at the same time.

Valerie felt completely conflicted (and furious) for a while until she fully embraced the lesson she'd learned by meeting Dani. The world wasn't clear-cut and simple. It was a mixture of grays and contradictions. Danielle was both a ghost and a human, someone that couldn't easily be considered evil or destroyed. Vlad was both the one who helped her find her path and the one she would never trust again. And Danny was an imperfect hero, someone who tried to be good and yet could still make mistakes or be misunderstood. With her new understanding of the world, she could forgive Danny for the past. She just wasn't completely sure _he_ could forgive _her_.

Shoving those thoughts to the back of her head, the brown-haired girl scribbled down a vague note for her dad. There was a ghost in town according to the news and her dad was at work. She couldn't ask for a better turn of events. Preparing to don her battle suit, the upgraded version rather than the one from Vlad, she was halted by the phone ringing.

"I'm not doing anything, Dad," she answered guiltily as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Glad to hear it, but I'm Jazz," the distinctly female voice replied. "I'm Danny's sister. We thought you should be at least warned about the situation. The news might say we're dealing with a minor ghost threat, but we think something big is coming. We don't know what, but be careful if you try anything."

Frowning slightly, Valerie asked, "Did Danny tell you to warn me?"

"Yes."

"Did he want to tell me anything else? Like to keep out of his way or that this is job for half ghosts?" she asked, feeling a little defensive. "Just because I don't have powers doesn't mean I'm staying on the sidelines, no matter how tough things get."

"He just said to give you a heads up and that you don't have to join us if you don't want to. He knows you can take care of yourself and that you'll be involved. He just wants to warn you to be careful since things might be about to get really bad. And you can come over if you want to help us. Sam and Tucker are coming. And as long as you don't aim at Danny, you're welcome on our team."

Valerie knew the older girl meant the last part as a joke to reassure her that there were no hard feelings, but she still flinched. The guilt of always treating someone who could have been an ally, a friend, and someone to trust like that still nipped at her when she thought of the past. Reflection on her actions towards Phantom with her new knowledge of his identity rarely left her happy. Knowing the ghost boy was Danny Fenton almost made her feel like a bit of a monster for trying to blast him to oblivion so often.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Valerie responded finally. "I'll be going solo on this. But thanks for the heads up."

"No problem," she answered. "But Valerie… If you ever need to talk to someone, I'll be happy to listen."

For a moment, the girl was confused by the offer. Then she remembered a long conversation she'd had with Danny and how his sister eventually came up. Apparently she wanted to be a psychologist. The offer was proof that Jazz probably wanted to honestly help. She just wasn't a professional one yet. But, considering the last shrink Valerie talked to turned out to be an evil ghost, she couldn't make things any worse. Still, she didn't think going over her possible issues with the sister of her ex-boyfriend/ex-nemesis was such a great idea.

"I'll keep that in mind," she responded politely. "I've got to go. Thanks again, Jazz."

"Good luck."

* * *

Needless to say, finding out your younger child and only son wasn't completely human was a shock. Learning that he was now at least partially a species that you and your spouse studied and hunted, not to mention discovering that his condition was your invention's fault and that it was a repeated accident that did the same thing to a dear friend in the past, was enough to unsettle even the most confident person. Danny and Vlad becoming half ghosts was due to the Fenton Ghost Portals, the prototype and the later version. It was sheer dumb luck (or complicated scientific theories that would take time to understand) that neither of them was killed by the process. Their son could have died instead of becoming a hero who wanted to protect his hometown from danger. Between the knowledge they could have lost their younger child because of their invention and that he'd spent months lying because he was afraid of how they would react to his transformation wasn't easy for any parent to accept.

Adding in the knowledge that Vlad Masters, someone who was considered a friend of the family even when Maddie Fenton felt the occasional sense that something wasn't right with him, was also half ghost and spent so much time trying to get rid of Jack, trying to force Danny to his way of thinking, and finally lashed out at her son once he lost all patience with him… Well, there was a lovely ecto-bazooka she'd been improving on that she'd _love_ to test on him.

Her son was a strong, brave, responsible, and amazing young man. She just wished that she could have seen how much he'd grown sooner. She hated the fact that she and Jack made him feel like he couldn't come to them after he realized that he'd changed, that he didn't realize that they would love him whether he was completely human, completely ghost, or something in between. He was their _son_ , no matter what he did or what happened to him or who he decided to become. She also wished that he didn't put himself in danger so often, both in the past and the present, but she accepted that she wouldn't be able to stop him. Hunting ghosts was just what the family did, even if he did it with self-generated ectoplasmic blasts and cryokinetic creations rather than technology. He was good at it and, considering the fact he'd explained he'd already been farther in space than most astronauts, he might easily choose to continue to fight ghosts as he grew up.

She loved her son. She was proud of him and all that he'd accomplished. She knew that he could take care of himself since she'd seen Danny Phantom doing just that multiple times before she knew the truth. And she didn't stop worrying a second after he plunged straight into the Ghost Zone.

A large part of that time was spent gathering the various weaponry and checking that it was perfectly functional for whatever might be in the future, silently reminding herself that Danny would be fine and almost certainly spent enough time in the Ghost Zone that the danger to himself would be minimal. Jack seemed to be a similar state of distraction at their son's absence until events decided to give them something better and more productive to focus on.

The first wave of ghosts fleeing through the Ghost Portal was nowhere near the last. Every few minutes, another group of them would fling themselves through before phasing through the ceiling, walls, or floor. Maddie and Jack quickly took up a defensive position in the lab and tried to blast any who came through. Most dodged the attack, a small number dove back into the portal, but the rest simply took the hit before sinking through the floor anyway. They didn't seem to be afraid of the married ghost hunters shooting at them. Or rather, they seemed more afraid of whatever was in the Ghost Zone than they were of whatever was waiting for them in the human world.

Smiling briefly to herself, she considered how odd it was that she was thinking about the feelings and thought processes of ghosts. From her son's stories about his various encounters with colorful-sounding characters such as Skulker, Ember, Technus, and the Box Ghost, it was easier now to imagine them as individuals with their own quirks and motivations instead of just identical figures with minor cosmetic differences. That didn't stop her from wanting to blast them across the room alongside her husband, but it was still change the past.

Some of the ghosts diving desperately out of the portal looked familiar. The one that looked like a green-skinned lunch lady tickled at her memory and Maddie knew the pale boy on the motorcycle with a green-haired girl was someone she'd seen before. Others were completely new and seemed surprised to find a pair of jumpsuit-wearing people firing at them as they tried to escape. Those seemed to be the easiest to hit with a weapon and Jack apparently was trying to keep score like it was a game.

It was a good thing that none of the escaping ghosts seemed to have violence on their minds. The Fenton Ghost Portal couldn't be shut down to stop them at the moment anyway. Not until Danny made it back…

* * *

Fear was an emotion often associated with ghosts. But normally, it was considered to be _caused_ by ghosts rather than experienced by them. At the moment, however, every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone was aware of two very important facts. One, something bad was coming. Even those who didn't know the stories or rumors from the distant past could tell that much. His awakening could be felt by every single ghost and a certain level of unease remained even after the initial wave of warning. The second fact that they all knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was that they needed to hide.

Some found secluded corners of the Ghost Zone, far away from where they knew he was probably still stirring into proper awareness. They curled up in these lost and forgotten places, through doors and behind floating chunks of land, and tried not to draw attention to themselves. Dark caves, endless abysses, and generally unpleasant places were easy enough to locate in the dimension, but trying to first determine that they weren't inhabited by something that would lash out at unexpected guests certainly limited hiding places a little. But they were risking more hazardous locations if it might offer even the slightest safety from him.

Others were trying a different place to hide. Those ghosts were diving into any portal they could find. When a natural portal to the Human Realm formed, every specter within sight flung themselves through it without a single concern of where they might end up. A more reliable portal, one that was permanent and known to any ghost who dared risk detection by the infamous halfa, was preferred and instantly sought after by those closest to the location. After all, it was one of the only places where there was a reliable way back home to the Ghost Zone. Assuming that there would be anywhere to come back home to…

Finally, there was a small select group of insane ghosts who didn't want to run and hide. The wave of fear and dread that sparked off the knowledge to flee seemed to have angered a few, causing them to seek out the source of the disturbance and combat it. Prince Aragon, though thrust out of his role as ruler of his particular time-locked corner of the Ghost Zone by his sister after centuries of keeping her under his heel, was not one who allowed anyone or anything to dictate his actions. Fear from an outside source did not send him scurrying for a safe haven. It _angered_ him. And since he took back the amulet that rightfully belonged to him, his fury manifested itself by turning him into a fierce creature.

The black dragon-shaped ghost flew through the Ghost Zone, moving in the exact opposite direction as the rest of the population. He was furious; Prince Aragon's temper was well-known and dreaded by his former subjects. He bowed to no one and would not accept anyone or anything dictating his actions. Neither this dreaded awoken creature, his sister who pleaded for him to see reason, nor the black-and-white specter who followed Princess Dorathea around while lacking a spine of his own and asked the prince to remain for his sister's sake. Honestly, what did she think she was doing? Trying to rule _his_ kingdom and consorting with commoners who still measured their existence in decades? Whenever he finished dealing with his current foe, he would have to remember to remind his sister of her proper place.

Finding the formerly-slumbering enemy was far too easy for him. He could feel the dread building as he neared. Shadows continued to deepen as he neared, hiding away the ghost until only glowing red eyes and maybe the hint of an elongated face could be seen. Terror fought against the fury the burned inside Prince Aragon and, for just one moment, he wanted to flee far away from this place. Catching a glimpse of what might be a clawed hand, the dragon prince shoved those doubt away and began his attack.

Fire roared out of his mouth, pushing back the darkness slightly while seeking a way to injure the monster that was only whispered of in stories. The flames licked at the figure wrapped in the shadows, but didn't seem to do much more than distract. Tendrils of darkness lashed out, forcing the winged creature to fly around them.

Prince Aragon roared in defiance of the ghost commanding the shadows to strike against him, his fury and hatred not yet spent. A deep, menacing chuckle rose out of the darkness in response.

"If this is the best that this new age has to offer, I will be finished before a full cycle of the moon has passed in the land of mortals," the deep voice remarked, teeth reflecting the light from the flames as Prince Aragon tried again.

His anger igniting further at the suggestion of being weak, the dragon charged straight into the deeper darkness intending to burn the bright red eyes out of their sockets. The attack was short-lived as the tendrils of shadows struck him from every angle, skewering through the transformed prince. A flash of dark energy erupted out of the furious ghost, shifting him back to his humanoid form just long enough for him to break apart into pure ectoplasm.

The amulet that once hung around Prince Aragon's neck fell away, ignored by the red-eyed being. He had no interest in such tiny and useless trinkets. Somewhere out there _must_ be a more entertaining opponent. Slaughtering the weak and puny was only interesting for so long.


	3. Clockwork

The entrance to the clock tower that floated deep in the Ghost Zone was unlocked. Danny wasn't even slightly surprised by that fact. When planning an impromptu visit to someone who was capable of seeing all possible futures, they would almost certainly know about the coming arrival and could prepare accordingly before the decision to leave was even made. It was impossible to really surprise Clockwork. The fact the door was unlocked and waiting for the halfa to arrive didn't surprise him at all.

What did surprise him was the lack of aggressive ghosts he spotted during his travels from the portal to the domain of Clockwork. It wasn't like he went out of his way to spot other specters when he traveled through the Ghost Zone, mostly because they generally wanted to attack him, but he usually saw a few at a distance. In the past, he would simply have to out-fly them or hid behind a floating structure until they passed. This time, there were no ghosts that appeared to be simply minding their own business or plotting to attack Danny at any moment. The very few that he did see didn't even pay him the slightest amount of attention and kept flying away from _something_. The fear on their faces did little to ease him as he traveled to one of the few beings in the Ghost Zone who could both be considered an ally and would know the answers he needed.

The home of Ghost of Time was filled with cogs and gears that belonged in any traditional time-keeping device. There were constant tick-tocks that easily fit into the background, barely noticeable unless he was listening for them. The sounds were calming and the darkness that seemed to permeate every part of the Ghost Zone to an extent felt more protective than ominous. Between the rather soothing atmosphere of the clock tower and his knowledge that he was always welcome in this place, the halfa felt safe and peaceful whenever he came to visit.

Danny knew that, somewhere, there was a Fenton Thermos hidden and that inside was a monster from another timeline. Clockwork informed him of his evil future self's presence and that he accepted full responsibility for keeping him locked away for all of time. Danny didn't know whether to be nervous that his alternate self still existed in some form outside of time, guilty that someone else took responsibility for the older Phantom's existence, or relieved that he didn't have to bear the weight of guarding that particular thermos. But something about the slight smile on the calm and knowledgeable ghost's face made it easier to simply let Clockwork handle things and to forget about the thermos that was stored somewhere within the walls.

Danny felt himself drawn to the main screen used to view different places and times. There was one he considered the "main" screen, anyway. It was positioned to be the most easy to view without floating in midair, but there were plenty of others scattered between the pieces of clockwork that ticked and measured the passage of time around them. Briefly, he wondered why Clockwork would even need the viewing screens. True, they could act as portals to those time periods as Danny and his friends discovered during their first encounter with the ghost. But he also knew Clockwork could open portals to the past himself. So why would someone who already knew everything that was occurring (and did occur in the past, would occur in the future, and might have possibly occurred in another lifetime) even need a screen to view those events on? It wasn't like he seemed to have many friends who came over to watch the timelines with him and he didn't technically need them himself. So why did he have them?

Perhaps Clockwork wanted to sometimes _see_ something rather than just know it. He might want to observe it occurring, to see how events unwind and how people react, rather than just have an abstract and disconnected understanding of what happens. People watch movies, go to family soccer games, and play video games rather than just examine a summary of a sequence of events that describe what transpired. Maybe the Ghost of Time wanted to sometimes feel more involved and at least watching would make things feel more real. It had to be lonely being Clockwork and older than anyone else that seemed to exist. Maybe the screens, showing people and ghosts as they go through their lives, helped keep the isolation at bay.

His contemplation of the thought processes that may or may not be going on in Clockwork's head was interrupted as he actually noticed the scene displayed on the viewing screen in front of him. It looked like the inside of a warehouse or shipping company. Either way, there were numerous packages stacked around the room. Peering more closely, he could make out windows that allowed in more light and Danny thought he could catch a glimpse of the ocean through them, but most of his attention was on the men scurrying around moving crates and large cardboard containers. Most of them looked rather stout and study, though there was the occasional younger man that was still skinny and gangly like a teenager. Each one, stubbornly carrying what appeared to be very heavy loads, was dressed in overalls and dark-colored knit cap that tugged at Danny's memory. He didn't know why though. Trying to wrack his brains for the answer, he watched the men carrying the heavy objects and stacked them in tall, neat, organized piles before walking out of view to pick up another load to repeat the process. There were voices, chatting, joking, and complaining about the weight of their various containers. One of the younger men, red-haired and freckled, was goofing around as he moved one of the containers and shoved it awkwardly against another stack. Danny was instantly reminded of the towers he would build out of blocks as a child and how one wrong hit could send even the sturdiest structure tumbling. He wasn't the only one who noticed the red-head's actions had sent the stacked objects off-balance. Various voices rose in alarm as the other men saw the danger and, though the competing yells made it harder to pick out a specific speaker, Danny could have sworn he heard a familiar voice calling out something equally familiar…

As the heavy stacked containers began to tumble down towards the young man, surely only a little older than Danny himself, he caught a brief glimpse of a shape fling itself towards the endangered person before the screen went blank. Before the halfa could wonder about the images vanishing, a voice he knew he recognized drew his attention back to the rest of the room.

"It is very good to see you, Danny," Clockwork greeted, currently in the form of an old man.

"Hey," he smiled. "I guess it would be pointless to ask if I was intruding or came at a bad time. You would have already known I was on the way."

"True, but it is nice that you would think of it anyway," responded the ancient ghost. "I also know that this visit is not one of pleasure, but of business. You have a question you wish to ask me concerning a grave matter."

"Since you already know what I'm going to say, do I really need to ask?"

"Just because I know what the matter you wish to ask about does not mean I do not appreciate conversation regardless. Visitors are not a common occurrence and I enjoy your company, even if circumstances for our encounters are rarely ideal," he said, shifting into his adult form and losing the long white beard in the process. "And before you apologize for not making the time for social visits, I understand the demands on your time are great and that you have been far busier than in the past due to the near destruction of the Earth recently. I was not intending to make you feel guilty, Danny. I was merely stating a fact."

Having indeed felt momentarily guilty that he didn't think of just visiting Clockwork when he wasn't in dire need of the Ghost of Time's help, Danny began, "Something happened not that long ago. It was like my ghost sense, only supercharged. And a lot of emotions kind of just hit me. I don't know what it was, but I could tell it meant something bad. Then a bunch of ghosts started trying to escape through the portal. What does it mean?"

"It means that someone is awake that has not been seen for thousands of years," he answered, his calm voice somehow sounding tired and disappointed. "He is one of the oldest ghosts in existence, though I am still technically his senior. What you and every other ghost felt was him awakening for the first time since he was forced into his slumber. It was a warning. While he only exists as a rumor because of how long ago it was when he last stirred, most ghosts have at least heard enough to know what they felt and to know how they should respond to his return."

"Great, we can add this to the ever-growing list of things that all ghosts should know, but no one ever seems to tell me ahead of time," Danny stated. "Like the Christmas truce. Or King Pariah. It would have been nice to have heard about that guy before he came charging into my town."

Shifting into his infant form, Clockwork said, "He is from before Pariah Dark's reign. His name was whispered in fear for quite some time until even humans with a vast curiosity for the dead heard it. Granted, they did not know the details and assigned many false facts to the name, but they understood that ghosts feared him and what he would do should they encounter him."

"What is his name?" he asked.

"Ammit," answered the specter, gesturing towards the main screen with his staff.

An image appeared as Danny looked into what he knew to be the past. The darkness seemed absolute with only the faintest hint of green glow to show that it was the Ghost Zone. Staring harder at the scene, the boy could almost make out a shape in the shadows. There definitely seemed to be bright red eyes, maybe a hint of an elongated mouth, four limbs, and claws. He was almost certain there were claws. But the shadows seemed to cling to the figure, resisting the normal green glow of the Ghost Zone completely. Still, compared to some of the enemies he'd faced, Danny didn't see what the real threat was. He didn't _see_ it, but he could feel it. Across time and space, he could sense that the shadowy figure was the most dangerous thing he'd ever encountered. The boy resisted the urge to shudder.

"Those humans, while getting so many details wrong when they heard of him, did understand his deadliness. The Egyptians called Ammit 'the Devourer of the Dead' and 'the soul-eater.' While not a perfect description, it serves to demonstrate the danger. Death does not come easy to ghosts, but Ammit found it quite easy to accomplish and sought to kill any he might encounter, human or ghost."

Danny watched the screen as other ghosts came into view of the shadowy shape. Some tried to attack, but black tendrils burst out of the general aura of shadows. The darkness pierced the ghosts and they vanished into green ectoplasm. The boy shuddered at the familiarity of the sight; it looked exactly like what happened to Dani. Some of the specters managed to dodge the first attack, but they were quickly taken out by those claws that slashed in concert with the tendrils of shadows. The ghosts looked so terrified and desperate as they tried to fight the larger figure, as if they knew they would be destroyed and still fought because there was no other choice.

"So a ghost who can kill other ghosts," Danny muttered under his breath. "And powerful enough that him waking up sends everyone running for safety. He'll come after us, won't he? Not just everyone in the Ghost Zone. You said he'll kill humans too."

"He is very powerful," Clockwork nodded, changing from infant to old man as if the grave news he was delivering was the cause of his aging. He floated next to the younger ghost and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. "And he seeks a challenge. Killing a weak target does not bring him as much pleasure as one who can still struggle against him. Ammit will kill them regardless, but he will look for stronger ghosts so that their demise can be drawn out. He will know that many will seek shelter in the human world and so he will try to follow them in search of more interesting foes. He will also learn of your existence and, whether you realize it at times or not, you are stronger than your harmless appearance would suggest. He will come after you because he will think you will provide a slight challenge."

"As if I don't get enough of that kind of attention from Skulker," he tried to joke, but he couldn't really put the effort into it.

Watching the screen as the shadow-enshrouded shape slaughtered countless ghosts in the distant past left Danny uneasy. The presence of Clockwork's hand on his shoulder was a slight comfort at the moment, which was probably why the omniscient specter placed it there in the first place. He could see exactly why all those feelings of fear and dread washed over apparently every ghost in existence when Ammit awoke. He was an unstoppable monster.

On second thought, perhaps not completely unstoppable…

"You said he was asleep for thousands of years, right?" asked Danny. "That someone forced him into slumber? How? How did someone stop him in the past and can we do it again?"

"Observe," Clockwork commanded, gesturing back towards the screen with his staff.

As he watched, it began to become clear that the ghosts that were throwing themselves at the shadowy shape weren't doing it simply because there was no better plan. They were trying to keep Ammit busy and distracted. Peering closer, Danny could make out a few new figures entering the scene. Several were wearing purple robes similar to the one worn by the ghost beside him. Another was grey-skinned and looked to be carrying a hammer and anvil casually under one muscular arm, wearing only a short loincloth made of brown leather. Yet another was terrifyingly familiar.

"Pariah Dark?" he asked.

"Yes. Before he was trapped himself in an eternal slumber, before he even considered becoming ruler of the Ghost Zone, Pariah Dark was simply a powerful ghost. And his strength was greatly needed at that time, so myself and others sought out another, Wayland the Smith, who could craft objects of tremendous power and thus the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire were forged. Even Pariah's power alone would not be enough to defeat Ammit, so the objects would increase that strength so that he might have a chance to weaken him just enough to be contained."

"Wait, did you say you were there too?" asked Danny. "I mean, I know you were around somewhere back then, but you were involved in solving this?"

"Yes, I was there. It was too important a task for me to remain neutral."

As the boy watched, he saw one of the purple robed beings shift into a smaller shape, identifying that ghost as Clockwork changing into his infant form. Danny peered closer at the image, trying to see the familiar features hidden beneath the hood and the surrounding shadows. There was just so much to observe, he couldn't focus on Ammit, the ghosts being easily destroyed, Pariah Dark, or the past version of Clockwork without another aspect of the scene capturing his attention. But as he caught a glimpse of the Ghost of Time's face, Danny could see that there was something different about it. Not to mention something looked off about Pariah Dark too.

"The eyes," the halfa muttered.

There was something wrong with both of their eyes. Pariah Dark didn't have an eye patch on his face and the past version of Clockwork didn't have a scar. The same scar that Danny would see on all three forms of the ancient ghost. He never wondered before what could leave such a mark on a ghost who knew everything, but the absence in the image left him curious.

As he watched, Pariah Dark moved through the shadowy murk and batted away any tendrils of darkness with his mace. The other ghosts, those wearing the purple robes, quickly followed after him while deflecting other vine-like pieces of shadow from stabbing someone. The fact they weren't instantly killed demonstrated that they were too powerful, too organized, or both to be an easy target.

"Why didn't you stop time?" Danny asked as he saw the past version of Clockwork dodge a tendril of darkness without any apparent notice of the threat.

"Ammit's danger is not just his strength or his ability to slaughter ghosts with barely any effort. Certain stronger and more… _specialized_ powers cannot affect him," explained the present Clockwork. "If I should stop time, he would continue forward as if he wore one of my medallions. Ember McLain would not be able to control him with her music nor would Kitty be able to banish him to another dimension with a blown kiss. Nocturne would not be able to send him into a deep slumber. Attacks of ecto-energy and those powers that work on other objects can still be used to combat him. Pariah Dark's strength is based upon those forms of combats and that was part of the reason why he was chosen to face Ammit. Your powers will also work."

"At least there's that little bit of good news," he said. "So you went in there, unable to stop or rewind time properly, and tried to fight someone who goes around killing ghosts for fun? At least you'd still know how to avoid the worst possibilities, right?"

"I knew exactly what the consequences of my actions would be," stated the ghost in a calm tone, shifting to his ancient form.

Danny watched as Pariah Dark reached the dark figure in the center of the shadows, trying to decide if he should be rooting for Ammit or his opponent. The fire-haired figure pounded at the large ghost with his mace while shadows and claws slice at him in response. Rather than pick between his past and future opponents, Danny focused on the unscarred version of Clockwork that slipped past another questing dark tendril that tried to pierce him. Nothing could touch him because he always knew exactly what the future held.

"While Pariah, myself, and other strove to weaken and distract Ammit, Wayland was to craft an object that would force him into slumber. There was not enough time to create a container for his power such as the sarcophagus later used against King Pariah. Instead, it was a more fragile creation that would serve our purpose."

A quick glance showed the grey-skinned ghost smashing his hammer against his anvil. Each impact produced a gold glow that continued to grow brighter with each hit. While not the best at school, Danny was almost certain that there should be some sort of metal on the anvil to be forged. Instead, Wayland appeared to create matter through the very act of forging.

Switching his attention back to the battle itself, the boy saw that Pariah was having a difficult time with his opponent. Even with the other ghosts deflecting some of the shadowy tendrils that surrounded Ammit, the fight wasn't easy. And considering what Danny recalled of his own experience with King Pariah, that didn't fill him with confidence.

Abruptly the past Clockwork grabbed Pariah and pulled him back, just as a particularly quick tendril of darkness slashed at them. Even from his angle of observation, Danny could see they didn't get off completely unharmed. Both of them clutched at their faces. Unwilling to halt even after the injury, Pariah swung his mace with his free hand and managed to strike the shadowy figure in what appeared to be the head.

Before Ammit could recover from the hit, a final impact of Wayland's hammer rang out loud enough to drown out even the ticks in Clockwork's domain. The glow produced shaped itself into a golden orb and the tendrils of darkness stopped moving. The bright red eyes slowly closed, the owner apparently falling into the promised slumber. The other ghosts drew away cautiously from the formerly-deadly enemy.

"So that's how you stopped him the first time," Danny said carefully. "And where Pariah lost his eye, I take it?"

Dissolving away the scene from the main screen, Clockwork nodded, "He did not come out of that battle unmarked. Nor did I, as you have noticed." He pointed towards the scar near his eye as she shifted to his adult shape, clearly recognizing the question the boy didn't want to ask directly. "I knew I would be injured if I wish to keep Pariah alive and he was the only one who could strike Ammit hard enough to stun him. Victory often involves risk and sacrifice, as you know very well. I knew what the ideal future would require and found it to be an acceptable price."

Danny gave him a small smile, "I'm sure you knew exactly what you were doing back then. But what about now? Is that Wayland still around to make another Golden Globe of Bad Guys Knock-out or something?"

"No," he answered, his voice still calm and controlled. "He was lost to us long ago, during the reign of King Pariah."

"Well, how about we go back in time and pick him up?" suggested the boy. "I know you're really serious about the whole 'find answers in the present instead of changing the past,' but this is sort of an emergency. If he's as bad as you say, we'll need all the help we can get. We could go borrow Wayland from the past so he can put him to sleep again. Or we could go back in time and try to beat this Ammit guy while he was sleeping. Or simply go back to keep him from waking up in the first place." Danny knew the older ghost wouldn't be happy with those types of plans, but he honestly didn't look forward to facing an awake and aggressive version of the creature he'd seen in the past. "Please, can we just _try_ fixing the past to prevent complications in the present? I mean, you said you exist in all times or something like that. Can't you just consider _that_ the present and _this_ as the future?"

"I _could_ ," Clockwork responded, something in his normally calm tone making Danny nervous. "I could go back to the point where Ammit first came into existence, before he was able to truly become a threat. Perhaps I could arrange another aggressive ghost to attack him before he learned how to defend himself? But why limit myself? The Fright Knight was the one who awoke him. Perhaps I could prevent him from being released in the first place? If Vlad Plasmius were not to awaken King Pariah, then the knight would not fall under the older halfa's influence."

He gestured at the screen, the movement sharper than Danny was used to seeing from Ghost of Time. The hand was no longer resting comfortingly on the boy's shoulder. Instead, he was pointing at the forming images on the screen. The scene was a familiar one; his parents and Vlad working on the original Ghost Portal in college.

"Perhaps a slight short circuit of the equipment to keep it from activating to give him his powers?" suggested Clockwork, his voice tense. "It would make your life easier, would it not? And it would not affect your father instead if the device did not activate at all. Or maybe a different adjustment? One where Vlad Masters did not survive his encounter with the invention?"

He waved his hand again and the scene changed once more. This time it showed the Fenton basement. Sam was urging the past version of Danny to investigate the Ghost Portal, the accident that changed his life moments from unfolding.

"Maybe you consider my methods to be too subtle? I could have handled your darker future in a different method, one that did not involve me taking charge of your older self for all eternity? A malfunction in the activation? Instead of becoming empowered, the more likely outcome of your death could be easily arranged," he stated, his voice cold and harsh.

Danny resisted the urge to start backing away from someone he normally considered an ally and, maybe, a friend. The controlled and relaxed tones were gone. The red eyes that always seemed encouraging now stared at him mockingly as he discussed how easy it would be to kill the halfa. It was chilling. It reminded her far too easily of how Clockwork seemed when he first met the ghost and Danny thought he was an enemy.

"And if I find that too messy? There are other options," he continued, gesturing at the screen again.

This time, the boy didn't recognize the scene. But he could see his mother tucking in a small red-haired child. Danny almost didn't realize that it was his sister. She was so small and cute as their mother placed a soft kiss on Jazz.

"Perhaps your parents could be distracted that evening. It would not take much. If your mother suffered slightest delay at returning to her room where your father waits, it would be enough. They might still have a child and it might even be a son, but it wouldn't be you. It would be another child, with slightly different genes and a different life. There would be no Danny Fenton and no Danny Phantom."

Clockwork stretched out a hand, as if he fully intended to reach through and cause that distraction. Danny knew that a ghost popping into Jazz's room would be enough to keep his parents busy all night. It _would_ be very easy for a ghost with the ability to affect time to arrange events so he was never born.

The boy couldn't help shuddering as he noticed the expression on the Ghost of Time's face, eyes glowing brighter than he ever recalled and a hint of a dark sneer that looked more appropriate on Vlad's features than on Clockwork's. While Danny normally viewed the ghost's behavior towards him as parental (or grandparental), he was now afraid of how dangerous it would be to have Clockwork as an enemy. He seemed to be looming over the boy, glaring at him as if he was considering exactly how insignificant and mortal Danny truly was. As if all of the halfa's years of life, however few they might be, were on display at once for him to view and found the boy's existence to be trivial and meaningless. It was one of the scarier things he could remember seeing. And considering he could very easily be about to be wiped from existence, Danny felt that being afraid was a reasonable reaction.

Then, all the aggression and the Vlad-levels of "mad with power and unconcerned with anyone else" behavior evaporated without a trace. His eyes dimmed back to the normal, warm, and comforting shade. A small smile, both sad and apologetic, replaced the more disconcerting expression. He no longer loomed over Danny nor looked at him in such a way that the boy felt completely vulnerable and inadequate. The older ghost didn't try to approach the halfa either, clearly knowing exactly how his earlier behavior unnerved the boy.

"Now you see why I have to be careful about interfering too much. The temptation to change the timelines can easily lead to more and more alterations until I have shaped all events to my preference, destroying all hints of free will. There are always consequences for one's actions, Danny. Even for myself," stated Clockwork in a weary voice, changing into an infant that looked far too burdened by reality. "I know that you understand this lesson very well. Great power requires great responsibility because it also brings great temptation. Power corrupts those who do not guard against those temptations and absolute power can corrupt absolutely. I know every possible timeline. That means I have intimate knowledge of what I can become if I do not take care, Danny. I have seen many cases where I become a monster that would give even your darker future self nightmares."

The calm and control was back in his voice, but Clockwork sounded so tired. The small display of what an evil version of the Ghost of Time could be like was terrifying to witness, and yet Danny couldn't help feeling sorry for the omniscient specter. Danny only saw one evil version of himself in one possible future. There was no guessing how many evil versions of Clockwork there were out there in the different timelines and all of them would be known to the ghost in front of him.

Not knowing what else to do, but wanting to offer a hint of support to the ghost who was in many cases a good person he could count on, Danny placed his hand on Clockwork's shoulder as the older specter morphed into an old man. The boy even gave him a small smile of encouragement, though it wasn't as strong of an expression as it would have been before the demonstration of how easy it would be to wipe someone out of existence.

"I know my limitations," continued Clockwork. "I interfere with the past as little as I can and I try to avoid directly affecting the timeline as much as possible. When I do act, I must make sure that it does not lead to those futures were I become just as dangerous as any of your other enemies. Even good intentions can lead to devastation. Problems of the present should be repaired in the present. There is nothing wrong with learning from the past, but the answers to the current crisis do not wait for you there."

"If the answers aren't there, then why show me that scene at all?" he asked.

"Because you need to know what you will be facing and exactly what he is capable of. You need to know that you will not be able to face him alone if you wish to succeed," answered the older ghost. "And you need to understand that I cannot help you directly. I know you rarely expect or hope for my interference and it is wise for you not to do so, but I also know that you will hope for it against this opponent before the battle is finished and you need to know that my powers over time will not touch him. Everyone has their limits."

Resisting the urge to sigh, Danny nodded solemnly, "I understand. Thank you for helping at least this much then. I guess it's better than flying in blindly. Is there anything else that you can do before I go?"

"I can tell you he will reach Amity Park at 1:42 PM tomorrow, but his influence will be noticeable before that point," said Clockwork. "I can also give you one piece of advice. I urge you to pay attention to it and keep it in mind regardless of what you encounter or how much you wish to ignore my words."

"Why would I want to ignore your advice? Considering you know everything, that seems kind of stupid. That's something _Dash_ would do."

Smiling kindly at the boy, the older ghost said, "No matter what you might think of them or how you might feel about dealing with them, accept any offer of help that you might receive for this coming encounter. The one offering or the form that their assistance might take does not matter. Accept help in any capacity they might suggest."

Frowning now in confusion, Danny asked, "Why in the world would I be crazy enough to turn down help?"

"Those offering their help may not be who you expect. And the help they will offer might not seem useful at the time. But you must accept it if you want to succeed, Danny."

About to remind him that he'd teamed up with all the ghosts in the Ghost Zone in order to save the world already and thus accepting help from unusual sources wasn't that hard, Danny reminded himself that the ghost he was talking to _knew_ that perfectly well. If Clockwork was making a point to tell him to accept help, then there was a strong possibility that he needed that reminder to accept it. He didn't do things for no reason. Unnecessary warnings and random chance didn't occur around a ghost who knew everything.

That last thought concerning random chance stopped Danny before he could leave. Curiosity quickly combined with the knowledge that Clockwork could have been waiting for the halfa at the front door rather than let him wander around a few minutes before showing up, forcing the boy to ask one last question rather than leave immediately to prepare for the arrival of a supremely powerful ghost.

"Earlier, when I first got here, there was a scene on your window to the past. Or future. Or whenever it was," he explained, trying to organize his question properly. "I wouldn't have seen that unless you wanted me to. You're not the type of person who wanders off while leaving the television on. There was a red-haired young man who was moving boxes and it looked like he was about to be crushed. Who is he? Or who was he? Or who will it be?" Danny frowned, "Time travel makes it really hard to talk straight."

"It was a scene from the past of an ordinary young man named Tony Murphy. Perhaps a little reckless at the time, but he was young and did not think of consequences," answered Clockwork calmly, shifting into his adult shape. "For the most part, he was completely average in every manner you could imagine."

"What happened to him?"

Adopting a rather knowing smile, he said, "A more experienced co-worker, one that was neither respected nor paid attention to before that point by anyone, saved him from being crushed by the falling containers at the cost of his own life. The shock of having someone make that sacrifice, let alone someone who he and others barely noticed before, forced Tony to mature and grow into a better person. He took responsibility for his life and tried his best to no longer overlook those around him. Further along the time line, he found a wife and they had two children that would have never existed if Tony was killed in that accident. One of the children, a daughter, would someday have children of her own and so on. Each member of that family would make choices and influence the world in ways, some large and some barely noticeable. A few would, or rather _will_ , save other lives either directly or indirectly. Doctors, inventors, police officers, and simply caring people will all be able to trace their ancestry back to that single red-haired young man. None of these things would ever occur if their reckless ancestor was crushed beneath the weight of those boxes. A single choice by an ignored soul made all the difference."

Raising an eyebrow, Danny asked, "So was it supposed to be another example of how easy it can be to change the future or does Tony and family have some kind of effect on what is coming? I mean, do one of them figure out a way to defeat Ammit? Is that why you let me see that glimpse of the past?"

"I suppose it would be closer to the former reason. Do not underestimate someone or something because they are easy to ignore, seemingly unimportant, quiet, subtle, or apparently harmless. It can be rather surprising how little it takes to alter fate," he stated. "And it is interesting how you are making the same mistake that so many others have. You focused on Tony, but you did not even ask about or consider the one who saved him." Before the boy could say another word, Clockwork said, "I believe it is time for you to return home. There is much to be done before Ammit arrives in Amity Park. Remember my advice, Danny."

The Ghost of Time then phased through the floor, leaving the boy alone.

* * *

The Box Ghost knew it was a bad idea. While perhaps not the best at planning or devising evil schemes that would bring his opponents to their knees, he could recognize that his idea was beyond insane. It would be far safer short-term to stay hidden in a nice warehouse with all the boxes he could find to keep him company.

Unfortunately, he knew that hiding would solve nothing in the long-term. Action must be taken. Swift and decisive action that would prevent all ghosts from suffering a non-container related doom. And no matter how much he would want to believe otherwise, the Box Ghost knew that he wasn't the one who could stop the one who was coming. The half-remembered stories and rumors about Ammit made it clear that anyone who got in his way was almost guaranteed a permanent end to their existence. He knew he couldn't survive someone like that.

But he did know someone who might just be able to pull it off. Someone who faced ghostly opponents on a regular basis, fought King Pariah directly, and managed to figure out a way to keep Earth from being smashed by an asteroid. Not only would someone like that have a better chance than anyone else at surviving an encounter, but he was also the hero type who wouldn't be able to resist the urge to save the day. All he had to do was fly up to the guy and tell him about the problem.

That was, however, the part that was pure insanity. Going up to the guy without any box-related plans to enact was practically begging to be sucked into the thermos. Not to mention his family was a bunch of ghost hunters. The Box Ghost wasn't above facing a challenging foe, but even he wasn't crazy enough not to realize how easily it could all go wrong. He'd have to be cautious about his approach. He would have to wait until he was close to the halfa before he revealed himself in order to deliver his news of impending doom.

And that was exactly why he was approaching the Fenton household while invisible and intending to come through the roof rather than any other method. No one would suspect a thing.

The house was very easy to spot, even if he didn't already know the location due to the number of times he'd slipped through the Ghost Portal. Skipping past the larger structure on top of the building, the Box Ghost phased through until he was inside the home. Before he could move on, however, his attention towards his mission was pulled away as he realized he'd ended up in a small storage closet. And in the storage closet was a collection of boxes.

Grinning to himself, the specter decided Danny Phantom could wait a _few_ minutes. At least until he had the chance to investigate the contents of these wonderful cardboard containers in front of him. He could rearrange the stacks into sturdy, neat little piles afterwards and then he could warn the boy about the approaching doom to all. A short wait couldn't hurt. The boxes were just too tempting to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And before I have a bunch of people who like mythology screaming at me about how Ammit isn't like what's been described so far, I would like to point out that accuracy isn't exactly a high priority for "Danny Phantom." In mythology, Pandora didn't have four arms, didn't make the box to contain the evils of the world, and wasn't a warrior type at all. She was a girl who opened a box when she shouldn't have and released all the evils into the world, but managed to close it fast enough to keep hope contained so humanity would have at least that much. Basically, the Ghost Zone version of mythological entities varies from those of human stories. And in Ammit's case, he sort of inspired humans instead of being formed by their imagination. Thus, it makes sense that there would be even more differences between the two.


	4. A Gathering of Ghosts

He didn't consider himself a leader. He was a lone hunter, stalking his prey with only his skills with weaponry and wits to depend on. But in a crisis, he could bark orders loudly enough to restore some form of structure and he could direct angry and frightened forces towards a single goal. But he didn't seek leadership and the responsibilities it brought.

But Skulker found himself in that pseudo-role again and tried to make the best of it. Ember flew next to him, her face an equal mixture of stubborn determination, rebellion, and unease. Trailing slightly behind him was Technus, strangely silent. Both of them kept looking to him for direction, wanting him to lead during this dangerous time. At least Ember looking at him like that made some sense, though his girlfriend tended to be more independent. Technus, on the other hand, just randomly bumped into the fleeing couple and decided to join their mad quest. It wasn't much, but Skulker would lead the small group through the insane venture.

A sound captured the hunter's attention and he stopped immediately behind a small floating chunk of land, signaling his companions to follow his example. Something told him that it wasn't Ammit, but Skulker didn't let his guard down. None of them existed when Ammit was last lurking around. Depending solely on rumor and myth to plan a hunt (or how to avoid becoming the hunted) was foolish. Skulker began charging his weaponry, Ember held her pick over the guitar strings in preparation to play a chord, and Technus glanced around anxiously in search of some form of technology to use.

As the source of the noise drew near, it became more recognizable and sounded less than threatening. Sobbing accompanied by constant reassurance rarely came from dangerous sources. Skulker lowered his weapon as a black-and-white teenager floated into view while patting the shoulder of a crying blond young woman. The boy, wearing glasses and looking as if he'd stepped out of a photo from the fifties, still gave off the loser impression that his human self did to the extent that the hunter was resisting the urge to find a locker to stuff him in. The young woman, her appearance suggesting an age of late teens or early twenties while her attire matched the Middle Ages, wore her hair pinned against her head and a necklace around her neck. Neither looked threatening, though Skulker knew the girl possessed a fiery temper. Generally, he would ignore these two meek ghosts, but these weren't normal times.

"Poindexter," he growled in greeting. "Princess Dorathea. What are you doing so far from your territories and could you stop that noise? Stealth is important for hunter and prey alike, so I don't appreciate you drawing everyone's attention with that crying."

Rather than cringing like his general demeanor would suggest, the monochromatic ghost placed himself in between the hunter and the upset green-skinned specter. The withering glare probably would have worked better if Skulker wasn't so much larger and if Poindexter looked less harmless. The urge to do something humiliating to the teenager remained strong and he resisted only because tormenting such weak prey would be completely unsporting. Not to mention juvenile.

"She's _upset_ , Skulker," the black-and-white ghost stated. "Don't be a bully and make it worse. Her square of a brother, Aragon, decided to wig out and ran off to fight Ammit."

"Is he crazy?" asked Ember. "That's a one-way ticket to oblivion."

"Even I, Technus, Master of all Technology, would hesitate to face such a foe alone," announced the specter.

"Hence why she's upset," said Poindexter. "She saw him through a far-out crystal ball and he's gone. Permanent-like."

While not one to pity others, Skulker couldn't help flinching slightly. It was far too easy to imagine him or Ember suffering a similar fate. No one would be safe as long as Ammit was free. There were only a few clear options when faced with such impossible odds. Run and hide or fight and die.

Or find a third choice.

"I know my brother was not necessary a good person," the sniffling specter admitted.

"He was a hot-headed, heartless bully who treated you like a mindless servant and not the swell girl you are," Poindexter said firmly. "Dora, he was awful to you and you had to kick him off the throne because he was just bad news."

"But he was still family and I loved him," she said. "Even after centuries of putting up with his cruel and restrictive treatment, I didn't wish such a fate on him. No one deserves such a thing."

"So what are you and the dork doing out here instead of weeping at home over your creep of a brother's dumb move?" asked Ember. "Isn't that what you medieval-welcome-mat women are supposed to do?"

"We are planning to ask for the aid of someone who helped us in the past," Dora explained. "He and his companions helped me gain the confidence to overthrow my brother in the first place."

"And he helped me stop being the most picked on kid in the school," added Poindexter.

"Wow, he _is_ a miracle worker," Technus said, displaying both sarcasm and no control of his voice's volume.

"Hey, don't let your ponytail and sunglasses fool you," stated Ember. "You're almost as big a dork as the bucked-tooth kid. So don't start getting all high and mighty. Me and Skulker will leave you behind if you annoy the rest of us with your ego. Got it?"

Considering her hair flared rather brightly with annoyance and Technus lacked any real technology to defend himself if left alone, the specter quickly nodded his agreement and fell silent.

"We seem to share a similar goal and thought process concerning Ammit," Skulker said, focusing on the pair of newcomers. "The whelp is a formidable opponent and he has a history of defeating even the most dangerous enemies. He also tries to act as the hero, protecting others from aggressive ghosts. There is little chance he'll ignore Ammit's awakening. An appeal for him to face this new foe will undoubtedly be answered, especially if we bring ghosts he has helped in the past to ensure he listens before sucking us into that cursed thermos."

"So the plan is for us to cower behind Danny Phantom while he faces an unstoppable enemy on his own?" asked Dora, tears gone for the moment.

"That's the plan, Princess," nodded Ember. "He takes the brunt of the attacks and we have time to run if it goes badly. Do you have a better idea?"

"Honestly, you call yourself 'ghosts'?" Poindexter asked, frowning and crossing his skinny arms. "At least you fought alongside the halfa against King Pariah's forces. He's called on us for assistance before, but he doesn't expect us to do everything on our own. That's the difference between tutoring a jock and doing his homework for him so he doesn't give you a wedgie in addition to stuffing you in a locker."

"There is no honor in your plans," added Dora.

"Survival is more important than honor," Skulker barked. "I refuse to end up a pelt on the wall of Ammit's home. You might want to consider that so you don't share your brother's fate."

This time, it was the blond ghost who flinched. In addition, both Ember and Technus gave the hunter a look of disbelief that he would say such a thing. Skulker knew it was a low blow, but none of them would disagree that Prince Aragon's decision to fight was idiotic and the results could easily occur to any of them. He knew when he couldn't win. It went against his nature to simply give up and hide. That was the behavior of the hunted instead of the hunter. It also went against his nature to act stupidly enough to be destroyed by an undefeatable opponent. At least against King Pariah, there was a small chance of victory. Against someone like Ammit, the best they could do would be to toss the ghost child at him and hope that they remained safe.

"I'd hate to bring down all of you, but we're all going to end up like Aragon if we don't do something," stated Poindexter. "He's like the bully to end all bullies. He won't stop until everyone is gone. You can still feel it, can't you? That creeping fear at the back of your mind that keeps telling you that you can't escape? It wasn't just one hit of terror and then it was over. It stays in your head. Jeepers, it still scares me. But I've spent a lot of time dealing with smaller fears and dreads, like what the next prank might be or what the students at my school will do to me because they'll think it's a blast. My human self put up with it until he couldn't anymore and I've dealt with it until my encounter with Danny. I know fear and dread very well. I can ignore that fear he put in all of our heads. At least, I can ignore it enough to think clearly."

As the black-and-white teenager spoke, Skulker realized grudgingly that the unease that remained from Ammit's awakening and his knowledge of the ghost was affecting his decisions more than they should. He knew that his behavior was going against his nature. They were still huddling behind a chunk of rock, like cowering rabbits. It wasn't right. That dread of what was seeking them shifted into anger against the one who sought to turn the great hunter into prey. The hunter hated to admit the skinny bespectacled ghost was right, but Poindexter was making sense. Even if Skulker still wanted to pin him in place with a crossbow again.

Continuing with his attempt as making a dramatic speech, Poindexter asked, "Ember, you want people to remember you. You want them shouting your name and to admire you. Wouldn't you rather be remembered as someone who helped stop Ammit than to be remembered as the girl who split when things get tough?" Turning towards the technopathic specter, he said, "And you're Technus, Ghost Master of Science and Electronic Technology. Not the master of letting someone else do all the work while doing nothing to help." Finishing with the third ghost of the group, Poindexter stated, "And what would everyone say if they found out the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter was trying to run away like a coward so that the ghost boy could fix things by himself? You'll either lose your prized prey or you'll have proof that Danny is undefeatable. Either way, there won't be any more hunting the halfa for you."

"You're on thin ice, Poindexter," Skulker growled. "My patience with you is fading."

"My point is that we have to help him. Wouldn't it be smarter to have as many ghosts against Ammit as possible rather than let him pick us off one at a time? There's strength in numbers. Rather than just ask Danny to stop him alone, we could team up with him to make the best attempt possible to succeed. If we win, you can go back to hunting him another day. If we lose, we'll simply be destroyed sooner rather than later."

Dora gave the black-and-white specter a small smile as he finished speaking. Technus and Ember glanced at Skulker, waiting to see what he would do. They still considered him as their leader for the moment it would seem. They wanted him to make the final decision.

"The dork does have a point," the musician said evenly. "Ammit will wipe us all out if given the chance. And we can't hide forever."

Giving his girlfriend a brief grin that would look natural on most dangerous predators, Skulker declared, "I, for one, have never liked being another's prey. Nor do I like taking orders from someone when there is nothing in it for me. And if Ammit's awakening is pressing fear and unease into the minds of all ghosts, causing us to scurry away and hide to make his hunt more interesting, then I suggest that we don't bend to his will quite so easily. As much as I hate to say it, the scrawny little ghost is right. Helping the whelp would be the best option. Though, be warned, Poindexter. If you should insult my reputation as a hunter again, I will use your hide to craft a jacket for Ember's next concert." As both the monochromatic ghost and the musician grimaced at the hunter's description, he added thoughtfully, "I wonder if it would be possible to collect Ammit's pelt for my collection if we somehow emerge victorious."

* * *

The number of ghosts coming through the portal was beginning to ebb, so Jazz felt it was safe to bring Tucker and Sam down to the basement without having to worry about her parents becoming overly enthusiastic with their shooting and thinking there were "ghosts" behind them. Since Danny wasn't back yet, the three of them decided to start looking through Sam's books for any clue about what might be going on. Meanwhile, the two adults in the lab kept watch on the swirling green opening to another dimension and firing every time a straggler decided to try escaping to the human world. There wasn't much discussion at the moment, but Tucker would pause every now and then to check for messages on his PDA in regards to what was going on with the rest of the town.

"Okay, I'm starting to get a little concerned now," muttered Tucker, staring at the screen.

"What? What happened?" Sam asked, glancing up from the book in her hands.

The bespectacled boy waved his PDA, "There's no ghost activity at all in Amity Park. I mean, not a single hint that dozens of ghosts have been flying out of the portal unhindered."

"Hey, we're hindering them," interrupted Jack before another green figure dove out of the Ghost Zone and straight through the floor.

"But once I check on things outside the city limits, there are news reports all over the world about ghosts popping up. Not all of them are doing anything major, but they're still being sighted," explained Tucker. "Like there's this small town in Kansas where, at a seven year old girl's birthday party, she actually got a pony after blowing out the candles. A pony that glows green and tried to trample someone. There are news crews there now filming other weird occurrences like killer lollipops."

"Desiree," Sam muttered. "Can you find a way to communicate with the people in that town?"

"You're asking me to find a way to contact a small group of people in a different state, with no name, number, or email address to use as a starting point?" he asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

"Pretty much," she nodded.

"Give me five minutes," he said simply.

Turning her attention back to the book, Sam instructed, "Let me know when you have contact with someone on site. Preferably on a cell phone."

"How is it that the reality warping ghost is the easiest to deal with?" asked the boy, apparently beginning his search for contact information.

"She's only easy if you know she's listening and we can actually think for two seconds. Otherwise someone ends up dealing with her messed-up wishes and forgetting to just simplify things. Most ghosts you have to fight or trick. Desiree just needs someone to say the magic words."

"I'm beginning to see how the kids could have been resourceful enough to combat the town's ghost problem without letting us know what they were up to," muttered Maddie quietly enough that Jazz could barely hear it.

"They've had plenty of practice," the red-haired girl replied equally softly, startling her mother who didn't seem to realize she'd been overheard.

"There are plenty of other ghosts popping up all over the world, but at least we can handle Desiree at a distance," Tucker continued. "But why aren't they making themselves known in Amity Park? There's reports even coming in from the neighboring towns, but nothing within the city itself. We seem like practically the only specter-free section at the moment. But that's crazy since we should have more due to the permanent ghost portal and the large numbers swarming out. So why don't we have reports going crazy like the rest of the world?"

"They're keeping a low profile for some reason. The others, those who are coming out of natural portals, know that ghost hunters are spread out and they don't have to worry too much," Sam said.

"But the idea of the Fenton family scares them far too much to risk it in our town, right?" said Jack, a proud grin spreading instantly across his face.

Rather than point out that it was more likely Danny they were afraid of running into, Jazz continued the other girl's line of thought, "They don't want to get caught and tossed back in the Ghost Zone, so they're trying to hide as best they can in Amity Park. The others don't worry as much because they can't be thrown back into their dimension as easily."

"Exactly," nodded Sam. "They'd rather keep a low profile than deal with whatever is in the Ghost Zone right now."

The Goth girl glanced towards the portal momentarily, a slight frown appearing on her face before she turned back to the books she'd brought from home. Jazz didn't have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking about. She was worried about her brother being in the Ghost Zone with whatever was scaring the ghosts too.

Almost as if summoned by the combined worry of his family, friends, and girlfriend, Danny flew through the Ghost Portal and landed on the ground in front of it.

"Don't shoot," he immediately said, noticing his parents automatically reacting by raising weapons. "It's just me."

"Sorry, Sweetie," Maddie instantly apologized, directing her aim elsewhere. "We thought you were someone else. Ghosts just keep coming through."

"And not just here," said Tucker. "They're popping up all over the world, freaking people out. The only place they aren't making a scene is, ironically, Amity Park."

"We figured out where Desiree is," Sam added. "Tucker is trying to get in contact with someone there."

"Not 'trying'," he smiled, holding up his cell phone. "Succeeding. I've got a call going to the new reporter on site. Do you want to do the honors?"

Danny nodded, rings of light encircling his body briefly as he switched to his more ordinary appearance. He held out his hand briefly and his friend tossed him the phone.

Holding it up to his ear, he waited a moment before saying, "Hey, I need you to do me a real quick favor. Please put your phone on speaker and point it towards the floating lady with green skin." There was a brief pause while Danny also switched the cell phone to speaker. Then, in a clear and calm voice, he said, "I wish that you would switch everything back to normal, stop causing problems and freaking out the locals, hide somewhere out of the way where no one can find you to make wishes, and return to the Ghost Zone in three days without making a fuss when it is safe to do so."

Even over the phone's small speakers, Jazz could hear a voice announce, "So you have wished it, so shall it be."

"And that takes care of at least one problem," he smiled, hanging up the cell phone and handing it back to Tucker.

"Why wait three days?" asked Sam. "What's going on in the Ghost Zone?"

"Remember King Pariah? We're about to be dealing with the guy who almost beat him, Clockwork, and a bunch of other powerful ghosts in the distant past," he stated, the grin evaporating. "And he'll apparently be coming to Amity Park tomorrow afternoon."

"Wait, _what_?" asked the three younger members of his audience in unison.

"Wasn't King Pariah the one who pulled out town into the Ghost Zone?" said Jack. "I was kind of having trouble paying attention during that because of the whole Ecto-Skeleton problem… What did happen to it?"

"Blame Vlad," Jazz stated quickly, turning her attention back to her brother. "Tell us more, Danny."

He gave Sam a quick look, "Any of your books talk about someone called 'Ammit'?"

"Hang on," she said, flipping through the pages. "I think I saw something earlier." The black-haired girl finally stopped and pointed at a section of the page, "Here we are. Ammit, also pronounced Ammut or Ahemait, was a female demon in Egyptian mythology who would hang out next to the scales they used to weigh a person's heart to figure out if they were a good or bad person."

"A 'female' demon? I thought Danny said this guy was a dude," interrupted Tucker.

"Clockwork also said that humans got a lot of things wrong. They sort of just borrowed the name rather than copying every detail of the guy," explained the dark-haired boy. "But I want to hear what they say anyway. Maybe the ancient Egyptians got _something_ right we can use."

"Well, let's see," muttered Sam, turning back to the book. "Ammit has a few rather unpleasant titles. She's the 'Devourer,' the 'Devourer of Millions,' the 'Devourer of the Dead,' and the 'Soul-eater.' She's called this because, if a dead person was a found to be more bad than good, she'd get to eat their heart and deny them any further existence in the afterlife."

"So Ammit is meant to kill the dead. At least that part explains why everyone was running for safety," remarked Jazz.

"The most common depiction of Ammit is to show her as having the head of a crocodile, the torso of a wild cat or lion, and the hindquarters of a hippopotamus. Since these are the three most dangerous creatures the Egyptians knew of and the end of a soul's existence being the thing they dreaded most, Ammit was viewed as a very dangerous entity. She wasn't worshipped as a god like the other figures in their mythology. She was the embodiment of their greatest fears," concluded the black-haired girl.

"Well, I couldn't tell for certain what he looked like when Clockwork showed him to me. He was always surrounded by shadows," described Danny. "But even the stories in your book seem to be pointing out that Ammit is someone to fear. And I don't think that he'll restrict himself to just attacking bad guys. Judging by the fact he will be showing up in our world tomorrow, I don't think he'll just destroying ghosts either."

"Having him pop up in the middle of Amity Park won't help our tourist industry," Tucker said. "So what's the plan?"

Before anyone could make a single suggestion, something came out of the Ghost Zone and fired.

A green glowing net launched forward, ensnaring their parents and pinning them against the far wall. While neither seemed to be hurt by the experience, it was enough of a distraction for several ghosts to come out of the portal. And unlike those from before, none of them seemed to be trying to escape. Jazz recognized the ones in front, either from experience or from the time she went through Danny's ghost files. Technus, the green-skinned man with shades and white hair pulled back in a ponytail, was on the left. Ember, a fiery blue-haired musician, was on the right. And in the center, a cannon on his arm demonstrating the source of the net, was the ghost she once called Ghost X when she first began helping her brother: Skulker.

"Really? You want to do this _now_?" growled Danny, shifting into his ghost form as he glared at them. "Why would you think coming into my house and attacking my parents would be a good idea?"

"Because, Whelp, we'd rather not be blasted back into the Ghost Zone before we finish speaking," snapped Skulker.

"That still wasn't very nice," another voice stated as a black-and-white teenager slipped by the hulking figure. "We're here to ask him a favor. We should at least try to stay on his good side."

"Sidney Poindexter?" said Danny, Sam, and Tucker in unison.

A green-skinned young woman in a blue dress that seemed to be from the Dark Ages quickly joined the bespectacled specter with a small smile. Neither of them looked as hostile as the three other ghosts in the room.

"We apologize for their behavior," the female ghost stated.

"Dora? What's going on here?" asked Sam.

Adjusting his glasses, Sidney Poindexter said, "I assume you've noticed all the ghosts wigging out lately."

"Yeah, and we know that some guy named Ammit is responsible," Danny stated, still eyeing Skulker suspiciously. "What does that have to do with trapping my parents?"

"I told you, Whelp, we didn't want to be blasted while explaining that we don't plan to let Ammit destroy us all," growled the ghost with green fire for hair.

"We know you, dipstick," continued Ember. "We know you have this hero thing where you'll try to stop him. And we know you're tough enough to give him a run for his money, at least compared to what most ghosts would do to the guy. Of course, you probably wouldn't _win_ , but you'd at least slow him down."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Danny muttered.

"But the dork and his girlfriend pointed out that Ammit will still come after us after he pulverizes you, meaning we'll get picked off one by one," she said. "And none of us are really happy with that idea."

"So then I, Technus, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, helped devise a brilliant strategy to avoid that fate," declared the ghost.

"Silence," snapped Skulker. "You did no such thing. You just trailed around behind us hoping to stay safe until you could find some form of technology."

Sidney said, "We decided that, since you are our best hope of stopping him, we should try and help you do it. There is strength and numbers, after all."

"Wait, you're offering to help us?" asked Jazz, deciding to make use of herself and heading over to try freeing her parents from the net.

"Precisely," nodded the monochromatic ghost, adjusting his glasses.

"While all of this is fascinating," said Maddie as she tried to pry the net loose from the wall, "I have to wonder why you would make such an offer after my son apparently beat you all at one point or another."

"Teaming up against a common foe or threat is something that we have done in the past," stated Dora. "If both humans and ghosts were in danger, we have set aside our differences when necessary. Such was the case against King Pariah and when Danny asked for our help against the asteroid. Is it so strange that we would ask for his help when he has made the same request from him? And would it not be wiser to unite all of our strength against Ammit?"

"United we stand, divided we fall," muttered Tucker.

"We all team up, beat Ammit before he can destroy us, and then we go back to hating each other the next day. Do we have a deal or not?" Ember asked.

Sighing tiredly, Danny said, "Well, Clockwork told me to accept any help that comes our way, so we have to agree."

"Really? Do we have to?" asked Jack just as the net popped loose and freed the parents.

"He's the Master of Time. If he says to do something, the smartest thing would be to do it," the white-haired teen nodded.

"Welcome to Team Phantom, Dora," smiled Sam, extending a hand to the specter. "We're glad to have you along for the ride."

"Thank you," she smiled back.

"And now I'm not the biggest geek in the group," Tucker said, glancing towards Sidney.

Stepping forward so that he was looming over Danny, Skulker stated, "Be aware, Whelp, that this is only a temporary alliance. As soon as the current complication has past, everything will return to how it once was. That means the hunt will resume and your pelt—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," muttered Ember, rolling her eyes. "We all know the routine by now. 'Phantom's pelt will rest on the foot of your bed.' That's what you always say. I think you're just going through the motions by now since you know it isn't going to happen."

"Don't mock me, woman," he shouted.

"What's the matter, O Great Hunter? Afraid someone will notice your failures? After all, you keep promising to hunt him down and yet there he is," she smirked, gesturing at Danny. "Still in one piece and completely free after all this time."

"He's a tricky and valuable prey. One that lesser hunters would stand no chance of capturing," he said. "I have come far closer than any other."

"Actually, Jazz one time caught him three times in a single night, including sucking him into the Fenton Thermos," interrupted Tucker, earning a glare from Danny and a sheepish look from Jazz as their parents glanced at her in confusion.

"Stay out of this," Ember and Skulker snapped in unison.

Technus floated a little farther away from the pair, eyeing them nervously as their fiery hair seemed to ignite further. Dora and Sidney also appeared to have the wisdom to give them some more space. Even without any further evidence, Jazz could tell the two were a couple and interfering would be hazardous to everyone's health. In a way, it was rather fascinating to observe the mentality of ghosts in a relationship and how they behaved towards each other. On the other hand, they were discussing Skulker's capability to catch her brother and toss his pelt onto the foot of the guy's bed. At least Danny didn't look nervous about the conversation. In fact, he looked mildly amused.

"The whelp will someday be mine. Each defeat of impossible opponents and each impossible goal accomplished merely makes him a more valuable prize," continued the hunter. "His hide will be the jewel of my collection once I succeed. No hunt will ever compare to the one he provides."

"So you let him beat you all the time because you'll be _bored_ once he's gone?" Ember asked. "Is that your new excuse?"

"I have never just _let_ him defeat me," he growled. "He is a worthy opponent, one that deserves my complete skills to combat. And it will be a shame to lose such a challenging prey someday. Without the thrill of such a challenging hunt, I don't know what I shall do to occupy my time."

"I'm glad to know that you find me so _dull_ in comparison to hunting down Phantom," snapped Ember. "After all, it would be absolutely crazy to spend time with your girlfriend."

"You're twisting my words," Skulker yelled back. "And I offered to give you his severed head after I finish hunting him down and taking his pelt. Don't you know what a generous gift that is? I could have easily stuck it on my wall instead. You're just unappreciative."

"You think I want a smelly old head as a gift? Dream on, dipstick," she shouted at the larger ghost. "You're the one who wants to use your prey for decorating ideas, not me."

"And as fun as it is to hear my enemies discussing how my demise would affect their love life, I think we should probably focus on the current situation instead," interrupted Danny. "You know, the whole 'Ammit guy deciding to wipe us all out of existence' thing? I'm sure my sister can help you with some nice couples counseling later. She's good at that sort of thing."

While Jazz smiled slightly at her brother praising her knowledge of psychology, she did feel the need to interject an important fact.

"Do keep in mind that I'm not technically a trained professional yet and that dealing with couples hasn't been my focus up to this point. I'll be happy to help the best I can, but I just thought I should warn you about that. I do better with child psychology and psychological complexes."

"Honestly, I think they could _all_ use some professional help," muttered Tucker under his breath. "And probably us as well."

"We don't _need_ couples counseling," Skulker snapped. "But the ghost child is right. We should focus on matters at hand."

"Great, now that we have that settled, let's move on to planning a way to keep Ammit from killing all of us horribly," said Danny. "And we only have until tomorrow afternoon since he'll apparently be popping up in Amity Park around then. Any suggestions?"

No one immediately spoke. Jazz noticed her parents were eyeing the ghosts suspiciously, but they weren't blasting them to oblivion at the moment and teenage girl considered that progress. Tucker was back on his PDA, looking for his answers within technology. Technus was looking around the basement with an expression of glee that would look appropriate on a kid studying his birthday presents. Everyone else was either shooting quick glares at possible enemies or concentrating on figuring out a possible strategy against someone that Jazz only knew the basics about.

Then, from somewhere around the ceiling, a voice decided to interrupt their thoughts.

"Beware!" the voice shouted as a short, blue-skinned ghost phased through the ceiling and floated there with his hands held out in an attempt to be scary. "I am the Box Ghost! I come to warn you of your impending doom, though I am not the source of such chaos this time. A powerful _evil_ has awakened and will soon rain down terror and destruction on everyone."

"We already know that," stated Danny in a flat tone.

"Oh…" the Box Ghost said awkwardly. "Uh… I guess… Can I help?"

"What?" asked Danny, his tone still completely flat and disbelief clear in his voice.

Regaining his earlier volume and apparent confidence, he declared, "I am the Box Ghost and I insist on helping you defeat this terrifying foe. For no one shall deliver true terror and horror except for myself and the cardboard doom that _I_ provide."

Jazz noticed that almost every other ghost in the basement, Sam, Tucker, and Danny were practically rolling their eyes at the Box Ghost's words. There were even a few groans of annoyance from the human teens in the room. She thought she saw a momentary frown appear on the blue-skinned ghost, but it quickly vanished as he tried to look menacing.

"Do we have to have _him_ along?" Skulker asked.

"Can't we just toss him in a thermos for his own safety? And our sanity?" suggested Tucker.

Danny replied, "If he wants to help, I won't stop him. But if I hear the word 'beware' too many times, he can help us by serving as target practice. Or I could have my parents have fun with him."

"We could always do with more test subjects," grinned Jack.

"If you require me to refrain from declarations to beware, then I shall hold my tongue so you are not in a state of constant _fear_ of my might," said the Box Ghost.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that," muttered Sam. "Who knows how afraid we might become if you keep telling us to 'beware.'"

"Terrific, we have that cleared up now," Danny said. "Now, back to the problem of the ghost who intends to destroy us all. What are we going to do?"

* * *

He stared at the stars twinkling in the darkness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so conflicted about what he should do. He always had a plan that would benefit him in the long run. He manipulated events like a puppeteer did the strings of his marionette. Even with setbacks and failures, he always knew what he was doing and he knew success would bring what he wanted. His sanity might have begun to fray in the time period after his failures with the clones and his goals might have shifted, but there was always a plan with a clear reward in mind. He always knew what to do.

Now, his mind clear and his ego humbled, he couldn't decide what to do. There was no benefit for himself if he returned. He couldn't regain his reputation, his financial success, his political power, or even his home. Those were forfeit the moment he revealed his secret in the most risky and boastful power-play possible and discovered his figurative hidden ace was useless. A promise to save the planet in exchange for money he didn't really need, power and authority that he felt he deserved, the opportunity to rub it in the face of the boy who refused to bend to his wishes, and the chance to stop the charade of being that idiot's friend. And, at least on some level, he hoped that all of it would be enough to win over the woman he loved. He took a big risk and lost it all. And going back wouldn't let him regain it.

In addition to not being able to regain what he'd lost, he would be placing himself in harm's way. Why should he take the risk when he could stay out in the silent, empty void of space? Every shred of logic screamed at him to stay away. There was nothing to gain by returning and everyone would see him as the enemy, even if Ammit wasn't an issue. He couldn't defeat a whole planet. And even his formerly immense ego wouldn't urge him to face an impossible opponent with no resources. He couldn't win by going back. Returning would likely lose him the only thing he had left: his life. Why would he even consider risking such a thing?

Maddie.

Vlad knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he still loved her. Not the selfish, possessive, smothering love that he once grasped tightly and committed every crime possible in pursuit of. An obsessive love the fueled his every thought while he remained trapped in a hospital after the accident, growing more and more bitter and tainted by fury as she fell for and married another man. That dark and corrupted love that motivated him for years and clouded his mind from realizing what he already possessed, that was fed by his pride and greed, and that turned him into the man he was today, had already shattered during his first week in the isolation of space. That wasn't the form of love that she deserved. That was the form of love that led a man to collecting expensive artwork and trying to buy the Packers. It was shallow, treating her like a possession to be won and kept in his mansion, and in the end caused more harm than good.

His desire to have Danny was the same thing. He saw the boy as _Maddie's_ son. He saw Danny as an extension of her. And when he realized the boy was also half-ghost, it seemed too good to be true. He was the child of Maddie with the powers that made Vlad who he was. Danny was like the metaphorical son of both of them, almost a sign that he and Maddie belonged together. But then he pushed the boy too far and Danny shattered his patience in return, helping fuel Vlad's descent into malicious mental instability until his goals became clouded. He lost sight of his desire to gain Maddie.

He couldn't have her. He resisted and fought for the longest time, trying his best not to admit such a thing. He wanted her, imagined a thousand ways to have her (most of them involving the demise of Jack Fenton), and kept hoping for years that he would manage his goal someday. But isolation, silence, and loneliness beyond his worst nightmares forced his twisted and angry mind so far that true sanity and calm were the only options left to him. He could see his behavior and decisions with a detached point of view. He couldn't have Maddie. He didn't deserve her and he wasn't a man who was worthy of her by this point. The only way he'd be able to have her now would be to either lock her away so she could escape or to find some way to alter her mind so she wouldn't try to leave him. And then she'd either be miserable or she wouldn't be herself.

Jack Fenton, the one he blamed for many years as the source of all his woes, was far less at fault when he thought about it with a level head. The accident was exactly that: an accident. All three of them were involved in the creation of that first portal. Anything could have happened when a trio of college students begins messing with the barrier between two dimensions. It could have affected him, Jack, or Maddie. It was chance that led to Vlad being the one to be changed. And, when it came down to it, the larger man always tried to be a friend and do what he thought was right. Some of his actions and behavior might have been obliviousness to the point of near stupidity, but the rest of it was genuine affection on Jack's part. Even the knowledge of Vlad being half-ghost wasn't enough destroy that offering of friendship until the smaller man pushed things too far. Jack annoyed and frustrated him since the beginning, but he was loyal to a fault. If Vlad just told him in the beginning that he was in love with Maddie, there was a distinct possibility that Jack would have simply backed off and let him have her. And as for stealing Maddie away, that would imply that she didn't have a say in the matter. She's the one who chose the orange jumpsuit-wearing, mountain of a man. She's the one who decided she would rather have a life, a home, and children with Jack. She was happy with her life, the one she built with Jack Fenton rather than Vlad Masters.

He couldn't have her and he could finally accept that as a fact. The burning, obsessive, unrelenting desire to have her finally flickered out, leaving him numb and empty. But he still loved her. Not really in a romantic sense, though his more cynical thoughts were quick to point out he never loved her in a truly romantic sense since his feelings were always corrupted by various selfish thoughts. Now, his head clear and everything else in his life now gone, his remaining emotions towards the woman he'd obsessed over for decades were simpler. He cared about Maddie's happiness and well-being. And if Jack Fenton, of all people, made her happy…

There was a figure of speech that he loathed at times, but could now see the wisdom of: if you truly love something, let it go.

The well-being of Maddie and her family, however, was the problem at the moment. If Ammit really was awake, it was only a matter of time until he showed up in the human world. That would place Danny right in the line of fire since he seemed to have an unwavering hero complex. The other Fentons, undoubtedly still ignorant of their son's actions, would quickly join in. And while Vlad floated far away and safe in the empty solitude of space, they would fall.

 _Danny_ : the uncompromising boy he wanted to make into his son either directly or through cloning when it became clear he wouldn't change his mind.

 _Jazz_ : the brilliant young woman who combined the mind of her mother with the sparks of genius that Vlad reluctantly admitted that her father occasionally displayed, leaving the girl with more potential than either of her parents while still being uniquely herself.

 _Jack_ : the insanely loyal friend he neither wanted at most times nor deserved at all during his life.

 _Maddie_ : the woman he'd always loved, always would love, and was just now learning to love properly and unselfishly.

He had nothing to truly gain by returning to Earth and he could lose his life if he encountered Ammit. It was smarter to stay away, floating and drifting randomly in between the planets with only the silent stars for company. There was no logical reason to take the risk of going back.

But there were four emotional reasons why he couldn't stay away when there was even the slightest chance that he could keep them safe. He still loved her, even if he couldn't have her. He couldn't let Maddie be harmed when he still held the power to make a difference. There were enough regrets in his life without adding four graves to haunt his mind. It was a crazy decision, but hadn't Danny been calling him fruit-loops for quite some time?

He knew which way was Earth. Even in his self-induced banishment, Vlad always paid attention to where his old home was. Without giving himself time to change his mind, he ended his random floating and took flight through the solar system towards his goal.

"At least I didn't go past Mars," he muttered, speaking aloud for the first time in a long time. "That would take even longer to go home from."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I am under no illusions about Vlad. He was a selfish, obsessive, evil fruit-loop. Even without ghost powers and with Maddie as his wife, we've seen that he grows up to be a fairly bad guy. On the other hand, we've also seen a future where he spends about a decade in regret and loneliness until he is almost a semi-reasonable human being. Basically, he has the capacity to get better than how he used to be. He just needs something big to bash through his "crazed-up fruit-loop"-ness and get him to realize that he isn't going to get what he wants. Once he figures out he won't get his dream reality and that it is his own fault that caused him to lose what he already had, then we can start seeing some sanity starting to seep through. I think he was an evil, possessive, messed up, jerk in the show. I also think there is the capacity to change when the right stimulus is applied. Just don't expect everyone to welcome him back with open arms.
> 
> On a different note, I had fun playing around a little with Skulker and Ember as a couple. I just kept imagining them as this dysfunctional, argumentative pair that spends at least half their time together making snide comments about the other or yelling insults. I can't see them as a quiet couple who spend their time making goo-goo eyes at each other (though that would be hilarious).
> 
> And basically calling in to solve the Desiree problem… Yeah, that amused me. You know that it would be that simple if the characters ever sat down and thoughts about it.


	5. Planning and Reveals

"Why don't you try building a jumbo-sized version of that thermos thing," suggested Ember, her voice barely tinged with sarcasm. "You seem to love stuffing us into that thing."

"Yeah, but I have to beat you to a pulp first," Danny reminded her. "Otherwise there's a chance you'll get away before you're yanked inside the thermos. And that's for normal, run-of-the-mill, trouble-making ghosts. I don't know if we'd be able to stuff Pariah Dark in one, let alone something even tougher."

That's how it had been for a while. The uneasy collection of ghosts and ghost hunter remained in the basement, one occasionally sprouting an idea before another ripped it apart. As the various plans were discussed and dismissed, Danny observed his friends, family, and enemies alike.

Tucker practically juggled his PDA and cell phone, preparing the city as best he could without causing panic and chaos. Ordering an evacuation because an evil ghost was predicted tomorrow wouldn't work. Amity Park was the only place at the moment with no obvious ghost activity. People were actually fleeing _to_ the city instead of from. It seemed comparatively safe and secure with absolutely no evidence to the contrary. No one would believe it would be better to leave, even if they could properly explain Ammit to the population. At least here there were ghost shields and warning systems they could use as the time drew near. That would have to be enough.

Dora was peering through the various books with Sam, trying to research an answer to the problem. And while Poindexter was also in their little study corner, he kept glancing at the female ghost with a concerned look on his bespectacled face. Danny knew that expression, especially the way he also ducked his head every time Dora glanced in his direction. The nerdy ghost definitely cared about the princess specter. It was sort of sweet, especially since the pair was generally not trying to attack Danny in their spare time.

The other ghostly couple in the room was less cute to watch. Danny honestly wondered how they could actually remain together. Skulker and Ember continued to argue and accuse each other of being the problem in the relationship (though not in those exact words), only pausing to direct death glares at each other (which seemed more effective than those used by humans), devising a possible plan of attack, or trying to make the Box Ghost float further away from them. Jazz kept trying to maintain peace with limited success.

Technus, unsurprisingly, was fascinated by the various inventions and schematics scattered through the lab. The technopathic ghost kept investigating the objects like a kid at Christmas with a million new toys, an excited grin plastered on his face. Danny watched his parents stalk the specter, his father alternating between guarding the secrets of his creations from an evil ghost and cheerfully boasting to someone who could actually appreciate the technological wonders. His mom simply glared suspiciously at Technus, silently warning him against touching everything with just a sharp look when the ghost grew too curious. As long as it kept him out of trouble and he didn't attempt a global take-over, Danny would leave the supervision of Technus to his parents.

"Is there anything about binding Ammit in there?" Maddie asked, glancing towards Sam and her books. "Didn't you kids say the Fright Knight was trapped by having his sword in a pumpkin? And the Ghost King in a sarcophagus?"

"They were," the dark-haired girl nodded. "But there doesn't seem to be any stories about doing that to Ammit. The best I can find is the fact ancient Egyptians would create decoy hearts for their mummies to use during the whole 'weigh for evil' thing so they could pass the test and not get eaten by Ammit. Not exactly helpful to us."

"Plus, if it was as easy as finding a pumpkin, the original ghosts who trapped him in the past would have done it instead of making a temporary solution in the middle of a fight," Danny added.

"It would undoubtedly make the situation less complicated and treacherous for us," announced the Box Ghost. "Perhaps we might—"

"If your solution includes the word 'box' in it," interrupted Skulker, "I swear I will find the most painful and slow manner possible to eviscerate you."

The smaller specter promptly shut up. Danny wasn't generally a fan of the hunter's methods, but if it stopped the Box Ghost from annoying him for the moment, he wasn't going to complain. Besides, the Box Ghost always bounced back, though Jazz's brief frown caught the boy's attention.

"Too bad we can't just blow him up," muttered Tucker abruptly, not even looking up from his PDA.

"What?" asked Skulker, a dangerous gleam in his green eyes at the boy's words.

Shrugging, he explained, "Like in those monster movies. The giant, possibly-radioactive creature invades the city and the population panics. They shoot at it, throwing everything they can. Finally, either the scientist devises the perfect solution and gets the girl or they blow up the entire thing in a last desperate effort to stop the beast. Granted, that usually destroys the city and fails to kill off the monster, but sometimes it helps. And it makes for awesome special effects."

"So our mayor is advocating we blow up the city, just in case it _might_ hurt the super ghost, based on movie logic," recited Sam skeptically. "And even your movie logic says it probably won't work." She paused a moment before shaking her head at him, "Behold our government. Democracy has failed us. It has failed us badly."

"I said it was too bad we _couldn't_ do that," he corrected, throwing his arms up as he declared his innocence. "Do you honestly think after all the normal political nightmares I have to deal with that I'd want to add the whole insane property damage and danger to the public safety thing that would come from exploding downtown? Give me a little credit, Sam. It isn't the worst idea suggested yet, but it's pretty high up there. I know it would be crazy."

"I think blowing him up is a fantastic idea," declared Jack Fenton, forcing Danny to bury his face in his hands.

" _Dad_ ," the halfa moaned.

"That could work," smiled Maddie, destroying any hope the boy might have that at least one parents wasn't completely crazy.

Jazz stared at her parents, "Mom, I love both of you and respect you, but that's not a rational or reasonable answer. That's idiotic and dangerous. What about collateral damage? Would an explosion even work on a super-powered, evil ghost? How could you even consider it?"

"That's the beauty of it, Jazz," she replied, diving for a list of formulas and equations. "There won't be any collateral damage. We were designing a method of destroying everything ecto-based within a certain radius without harming anything else."

"The Fenton Ghost Disruption Bomb," declared Jack proudly.

Danny recalled his parents discussing the thing right before Ammit awoke. He remembered how excited they were by the idea until he reminded them that dissolving into goo wasn't a fun idea for their half-ghost son. But that was before Clockwork showed him the past. Before he saw how easily Ammit could and would kill those who were in the way, destroying ghosts as effectively as the device his parents were describing. He didn't like the idea of essentially killing someone by vaporizing them into goo, but he couldn't think of a way to trap Ammit and he was too powerful to risk a return visit. They needed a permanent solution and, apparently, his parents knew a way to do that. Besides, taking him out quickly and completely would keep Ammit from killing anyone else.

The halfa didn't like this. It would be too easy to start thinking of "permanent" solutions to other troublesome ghosts. The thing was like a biological weapon against specters or something. It was a slippery slope. He'd hate to wake up one morning to realize his morals were as bad as Vlad's. Or worse, he could become a dark version of himself similar to that of his evil future self: ruthless, heartless, and completely feared and hated by all ghosts and humans for his actions. He didn't want to risk becoming such a being, but he also couldn't let Ammit rampage through the Human World and Ghost Zone. To stop one monster, he'd have to make a choice that could be considered monstrous if he wasn't careful.

"Do you think you can build it by tomorrow afternoon?" he asked carefully.

His father shrugged, "Maybe."

"The theory is sound, but we haven't worked on anything yet on the practical side," Maddie clarified. "Designing something in the time period that will be able to produce the effect with no collateral damage and still capable of disrupting the manifestation of ectoplasmic entities to the point of complete destabilization of the structure, especially for a specter of this magnitude, will be severely difficult, but it _might_ be possible."

"Of course, it won't really matter how powerful this Ammit guy is because he's still made of ectoplasm and this baby will turn it into pure goo," added Jack triumphantly, clearly not noticing the uneasy expressions on the present ghosts as they realized exactly what they were describing.

"Remind me not to annoy the ghost-hunting mad scientists," muttered Ember.

"All right, here's the plan. Mom and Dad, get your Fenton Ghost Disruption Bomb designed and built as quick as possible," Danny said before addressing the rest of his audience. "That's our best bet at the moment. The rest of us will buy them time and perform damage control once Ammit shows up. I don't care what your personal opinion is about humanity. You want help, you're going to play hero for a while. We'll get the civilians behind ghost shields when the time comes and we keep the guy busy from destroying everyone. We throw everything at him we can, just in case we get lucky. All we need to do is to keep him from killing someone until my parents finish their invention. Then, all the ghosts retreat to a safe distance before we use the monster movie strategy of blowing him up." Then he gave his parents a firm look, "And then all plans and designs for this thing will be destroyed. We don't need the Guys In White or anyone else getting ideas. This is a one-time only weapon. We aren't ever using it again. The only reason we're using it now is because Ammit is a threat to everyone and this could easily be considered a 'fate of the world' scenario. I'm not happy about it, but we don't have lots of options to work with." Danny paused before asking, "Can everyone live with this idea or should we try and find another way that doesn't involve ectoplasm-destroying explosions?"

"I don't think this will make us bullies," said Poindexter hesitantly. "I can see why you might, but I don't think it will. What he's already done to Dora's brother… It isn't right. We gotta stop him, permanent-like. We can't ignore him. And if the choice is him being killed off or us… Well, I know that the bullying didn't stop even after the original Sidney tried to split. I'd rather stand up to the bully this time and get rid of Ammit forever. This is the best idea, even if it is a little kookie, so I say we go with it."

"My only regret is that Ammit will not adorn my wall as a trophy if we succeed," Skulker declared.

"A _non-cardboard_ related demise, but no less effective than what I could have devised with access to the perfect cubes of _doom_ and destruction," announced the Box Ghost.

"Shut it, doofus," snapped Ember before directing a smirk at the halfa. "Don't worry, dipstick. We know you're too much of a goody-goody to come after us with something like that. You're a pain in the neck, but we can trust you not to try blowing us to bits." Surprisingly, several of the ghosts nodded in agreement with her words. The spectral musician continued, "So I say we go for the plan. Blow the creep up. He'd do the same to us if he got the chance, so we should stop him first."

Danny really didn't know how to respond to what was essentially his enemies stating they trusted him to make the right choice. He expected that confidence from his friends and family, but not from those he routinely fought. They didn't think he was capable of becoming the kind of person who would casually kill someone, human or ghost. They couldn't see him becoming the future monster who still haunted his nightmares (no pun intended). With the exception of Jazz, Tucker, and Sam, no one in the room had seen that dark version of himself. And, if Danny had anything to say about it, he would never let them encounter that possible future.

"Well, that settles it," grinned Jack, slinging an arm around his wife. "We have a plan and I get to build something awesome. That Ammit ghost won't know what hit him. Hey, Maddie, can we put my face on it?"

"Maybe we should focus on figuring out how to build a feasible version of such a thing first," she suggested, leading him towards their world bench. "We still have several calculations to work out if this is going to work."

Recalling his glimpse of his parents' past during the construction of the first Ghost Portal, Danny said, "Hey, Mom? Could you… double check Dad's math before you start building? Just in case?"

She gave him a slight smile, "Sure, Sweetie. We'll be careful."

Trying to ignore the fact his mother just called him "Sweetie" in front of several of his enemies and he'd almost certainly lost a chunk of his "Formidable Opponent Credit" with that display, he almost missed the quick tap on his shoulders. The boy turned to find Technus looking both eager and mildly sheepish behind his rectangular shades.

"What?"

"It seems like such a waste of resources," the ghost explained, "to have I, Technus: Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, and not to take advantage of my talents. Since time is of the essence, I volunteer my services and knowledge during the building process." He gained a smile, "It'll certainly be radical."

For a brief second, Danny hesitated as visions of the technopathic specter, his parents' creations, and world domination plans danced forebodingly through his head. Then Clockwork's advice eased that concern. If Technus wanted to help his parents build a ghost bomb, he'd have to accept the offer.

"If my parents don't mind your assistance, you can help out," the boy said, gesturing at the pair of ghost-hunting scientists.

While his mom looked uneasy with the arrangement, his dad was too busy being excited with the idea of making something awesome and deadly to ghosts to really care that his new lab partner was a ghost. Danny decided to consider that mindset progress. What kind of progress, he wasn't sure, but his dad wouldn't have overlooked that fact a few months ago.

"If you want to lend a hand, then we better get started. I have some ideas that are going to knock Ammit's socks off," Jack boasted. "Assuming he _has_ socks."

Grinning in a manner that was _slightly_ more enthusiastic than it was evil, Technus said, "Oh, yes. With our combined technological knowledge, we shall go medieval on him. This will be groovy and funkadelic."

"I like the way you think. And if you weren't an evil ghost, I think you'd be a lot of fun in the future."

"And if you weren't a puny human, I'd invite you back to my crib to get your rad opinion on a few little projects of mine."

"I think we've created a monster," muttered Sam as the pair began discussing the power requirements for what sounded like an ecto-powered, wi-fi enabled, missile launcher.

Maddie shook her head, "I'll supervise them."

As the more scientific minds withdrew for a planning session, Danny turned back to his (sort-of) Council of War. They were, for the most part, capable humans and specters who could be surprisingly formidable on their own. His job was to figure out how to use his volunteer forces to guard a town and delay an unstoppable ghost long enough for his parents and Technus to finish.

No pressure.

"Anyone know of any other ghosts who might be willing to help?" he asked carefully.

"Even if we did, Ghost Child, there is no guessing where they might be now," growled Skulker. "They would have fled in fear like rabbits catching scent of the wolf."

"You mean like we did?" muttered Ember.

"Silence, woman."

"So we don't have any way to track them down or to know if they want to help?" Jazz quickly interrupted before another argument could spark.

"It would depend on the ghost," Dora said, glancing up from the thick book in her hands. "While most would flee, others may choose to attack or…." She faltered briefly until Poindexter gave her an encouraging pat on her shoulder. "Or they may go to ground. They might remain firmly in their homes, perhaps to hide or to defend. Not many would choose this option in the face of one such as Ammit, but a few might."

Possibilities began to turn in Danny's mind, half-formed plans sprouting out of her words as he considered which ghosts might remain behind even after Ammit's awakening and how best to reach them. No matter how good they might be, the boy knew their current forces wouldn't be enough to guard all of Amity Park.

His churning thoughts abruptly derailed as the doorbell rang, the open basement door ensuring they could hear the sound even underground. A quick glance around the lab, filled with teenagers and ghosts, showed clearly that now was not the ideal moment for company to visit.

"Should someone get that?" asked the Box Ghost hesitantly.

* * *

Valerie was frustrated as she soared through the air, firmly balanced on her hover-board. As one of the few ghost hunters in the town licensed by the mayor to legally operate within the limits of Amity Park (the Fentons, Sam Manson, and Mayor Tucker himself were the others to qualify for such a license… the Guys In White kept having their paperwork rejected), she knew she was competent at it. Even if she was a little out of practice, she knew she could do it.

That was why she was so frustrated. With her upgraded and improved equipment, she should be up to her eyeballs in beaten-up ghosts. Her sensors kept assuring her that there were specters in the area. In fact, it said there were lots of them practically on top of her. But she couldn't find anything. She'd compare the situation to being stuck in a ghost town, but she'd probably find _more_ targets to blast in an actual ghost town. Ghosts weren't subtle generally. When they were in town, she could usually just follow the screams right to them. But now, they were keeping a low-profile and staying out of sight. For all she knew, half a dozen of them could be in front of her and she would never know for certain.

Valerie felt the urge to rub her eyes in frustration, but she knew it wouldn't do her any good while wearing her suit. In many ways, she liked her new equipment far more than those Vlad first gave her. The pink suit was now replaced with a more impressive red and black armor with built in (and more powerful) weapons, such as the wrist cannons, the hand cannon, and the electrified grappling device. The Ghost Detection System and the Ghost Radar made it easier to locate and track down specters most of the time. The Ecto-handcuffs and the reflective Ghost Shield also made her job so much easier. Her new board, with more of a V-shape rather than the old surfboard style, was faster and came with very useful Ghost Stingers and a dart thrower. Add in the fact that she could summon her equipment with a thought, cutting down on the time it took for her to get ready, and she was officially the most dangerous ghost hunter flying around.

Well, maybe not if she included Danny. If she was honest with herself, he was just as capable and fierce in as fight as she was. And he didn't need all of the equipment she did to fight ghosts. He might not be a martial artist like she was, but he still possessed plenty of natural talent and ghostly powers to make up for that fact. She'd realized by now that, in all her encounters with Phantom in the past, he'd been holding back and trying not to hurt her during the fights. Just because she didn't know who he truly was didn't mean that he was oblivious to the fact he was facing a girl from school. So while she'd always thought she could hold her own against the Ghost Boy, she'd never really fought Danny at full-force. He never wanted to really hurt her, even when she did her best to annihilate him.

Dragging her thoughts back away from the depressing musings of her past actions against Danny and the others, Valerie focused on her current problem. There were supposedly ghosts all over the place and yet she couldn't find a single one. That left her with three options. She could give up for the night and go home. She could fly around randomly some more, hoping that between her equipment and some blind luck that she might find one of the hiding specters. Or she could fly over to the Fenton's house to see if they could tell her what was going on.

…Forget it. She'd gone this long without having to have a proper conversation with Danny since the Dis-asteroid. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet about the past and that was bound to come up if she went to his house. Maybe she would get lucky if she did another round of the city limits and would find a ghost lurking somewhere she could see.

Kicking her hover-board back into motion, the Huntress sped off into the approaching darkness. It was definitely a better idea to avoid the Fenton residence for a little longer.

* * *

"If anyone without a pulse tries to come out of the basement while I deal with whoever's at the door, I'll stick you in the thermos with Undergrowth until Ammit shows up," said Danny.

With that quick warning, he flung himself upstairs and made sure he looked normal. He needed to deal with the company quickly without letting them know anything was wrong. Panicking everyone in Amity Park wouldn't do any good. So he would have to act like a normal, teenage boy who _wasn't_ discussing battle plans downstairs with his enemies. Even if the entire population of the planet practically knew he was half-ghost, answering the door as his human self would at least project the illusion of normality.

"Can I help you?" he asked as he opened the door, only to be confronted by a tall, furry shape in a green hoodie. "Wulf?"

"Bona al vida vi, mia amiko," the werewolf ghost greeted, his hood the only thing keeping anyone outside from noticing what he was.

Thankful he'd taken the time to actually learn Esperanto after his initial encounter with Wulf, Danny recognized the greeting and returned with his own, "Bonvenon dorso."

"Awesome, someone who speaks whatever that language is," a voice declared abruptly. "Can you tell him that he drools in his sleep?"

Peeking out from behind the hoodie-enshrouded werewolf ghost was a black-haired, human-looking girl in a red knit-hat. The instant he saw her, Danny broke into a smile.

"Danielle, when did you get back in Amity Park?"

Chuckling slightly, the girl launched herself at the older boy and gave him a hug. He honestly missed her and worried about her when she was wandering the world, even if he refused to say so. She liked her independence. Even when she knew he would help her out in a heartbeat, she always chose to take care of herself if possible. And she'd had enough issues in the past over not having control over her life that he didn't want to force her to stay against her will. She was a tough and capable halfa, but she was also younger than him. Both physically and chronologically.

"Get in here before the neighbors start gawking," he laughed, tugging both Danielle and Wulf into the house. "I know they're used to a lot of weirdness over here, but we don't need them to start talking about the latest visitors."

"They'll get over it, Cuz. If they can put up with the giant sign and everything, then they'll survive me and Wulf lurking at your front door," she replied, flopping on the couch as if she owned the place. "As to why we're here, I have a question for you. Do you know what's going on? Because we woke up to this… creepy feeling thing I can't really explain and Wulf said it was dangerous. It kind of freaked me out a little, so I thought we should talk to you. A few slices through reality later and here we are."

Wulf quickly followed her example and perched on the couch next to her. It really said something about Danny's life that a werewolf ghost hanging out in his living room wasn't even close to the strangest thing he'd ever seen. It wasn't even the oddest thing he'd seen that day.

"Ammit," growled Wulf, his hackles briefly rising as he apparently thought about the powerful ghost.

"See? He's said that a couple of times on the way here, but I don't have a clue what it means," Danielle stated. "Do you think you can translate for me?"

"It really isn't something you can translate. 'Ammit' is a name. He's a really old, really powerful, really scary ghost that freaks everyone out. Most of the Ghost Zone's population is currently trying to hide on Earth somewhere to avoid him. Unfortunately, he's apparently headed to Amity Park tomorrow."

The only response he got was a pair of blinking blue eyes. Danielle just stared at him, as if waiting for him to admit that he was joking. He honestly wished he could tell her that he was.

"I've got like half my enemies hiding in the basement," he continued. "We're going to try and stop the guy when he pops up."

The girl glanced briefly at her furry companion, the pair nodding in unison. Then she gave Danny a grin.

"Good thing we showed up then. We'll help you however we can."

"What?"

While the boy held complete confidence in Wulf's abilities to take care of himself, the idea of Danielle facing something Ammit was unacceptable. He still distinctly remembered watching her dissolve into ectoplasmic-goo, certain that he'd failed her. Yes, she did end up surviving that close call thanks to him bring the Ecto-Dejecto formula his parents created. Yes, now she was perfectly stable and fine. But that didn't mean he wanted to see her go against a ghost that could fight Pariah Dark to a standstill and was tough enough to scar both him and Clockwork. Not to mention the fact that the glimpse of the past showed that Ammit had a habit of reducing opponents to ectoplasm. Danny really didn't want Danielle to get involved with this fight and wanted to keep her safe. He couldn't protect her all the time, but he wanted to at least keep her away from someone who could easily reduce her back to puddle of goo.

"I don't know…," he began awkwardly.

"Come on, Cuz. I can handle anything this Ammit guy can throw at us," she said.

"Danny?" A voice interrupted, startling the boy to spin around. Standing at the door to the basement was his mom and dad with rather confused expressions on their faces. His mom took a step forward and continued, "What's going on?"

* * *

Maddie wasn't eager to leave the ghosts downstairs without her there to watch them suspiciously, but Danny was taking too long upstairs. So, hoping Jazz and the others would be able to keep the specters in line, she dragged her husband away from his bonding time with Technus and up the stairs. She didn't know what she would find waiting, but the scene in their living room was almost as odd as the one currently inhabiting their lab.

Perched on the couch was what appeared to be a large wolf in a hoodie. Maddie knew she'd seen that particular ghost before, but she couldn't seem to remember for certain when that specific encounter was. She half-way thought it might have involved the old mayor of the city from before Vlad's election, but she could be wrong. For the moment, the ghost didn't seem to have any malicious intentions, so she wasn't breaking out the weaponry yet. In fact, the werewolf-like specter was simply sitting politely, watching the Danny and the other stranger with interest.

The other arrival was, somehow, more intriguing to the woman. Maddie knew she'd never seen her before in her life, but everything about the second person on the couch seemed familiar. It was a girl, definitely younger than Danny by a few years. From her red hat to her blue sweater and red shorts, she didn't look that extraordinary. Of course, a human girl arriving with a werewolf ghost was at least a little out of the ordinary. Her black hair was pulled into a ponytail under her hat and her bright blue eyes were far too familiar to the woman. She was forced to remind herself that Jack didn't have any siblings and that her sister, Alicia, never had children. She had to keep that in mind because the girl in front of her looked like she could be related to them.

She barely paid attention to the conversation between the girl and her son until the new arrival called Danny "Cuz." At that point, Maddie couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Danny?" she called, causing her son to jerk in surprise. "What's going on?"

"Mom? When did you get up here?" he asked.

As soon as she saw the adults, the girl slipped behind Danny. While cheerful and confident before, now she looked positively shy as she hid from sight. The wolf-like ghost glanced between the girl, Danny, and the adults in confusion.

"We just got up here, Sweetie. Are you going to introduce your… friends?"

The boy actually cringed slightly at her words, but quickly plastered a smile in place as he gestured towards the larger figure, "This is Wulf. He's actually a friend and not an enemy trying to avoid being destroyed by a bigger threat. Trust me, he's very easy to get along with once you're on his good side. Unfortunately, he only speaks Esperanto and a couple of words of English." He paused a moment, frowning in thought, before suggesting, "If you can dig up your Ghost Gabber, maybe it could translate for him. As long as we don't go crazy listening to it add the phrase 'fear me' at the end of everything he says."

"And her?" Maddie asked, noticing her son was avoiding the topic of the girl trying her best to keep behind Danny.

Before he could say anything, Tucker slid past the two adults. With his head bent over his PDA, he initially appeared ignorant of whatever was going on in the room. Then he paused, glancing up at the newcomers with a brief smile.

"Hey, Wulf. Hey, Danielle. When did you get here? I'd love to stay and chat, but I was just going to grab a soda real quick. I'm busy arranging a 'ghost drill' for the schools tomorrow. I don't want to tell them a super ghost is showing up, but I do want to get all the elementary and middle school kids to the high school and under the ghost shield in time. So I'm calling it a routine ghost drill." Turning his attention to his PDA once more and moving towards the kitchen, he added, "Well, I'm glad you two could join us. We've already got a bunch of ghosts signing up for the whole 'blow up Ammit' thing. I'm sure my favorite Esperanto-speaking specter and Danny's cousin would be helpful at keeping the guy distracted."

"'Cousin'? Danny and Jazz don't have a cousin," frowned Jack, the man peering at the girl still hiding behind their son.

"Well, I guess 'cousin' isn't exactly correct," Tucker said distractedly. There were sounds in the kitchen of him pulling open the refrigerator door and poking around inside, obviously only partially paying attention to the conversation. "On the one hand, she technically came from Danny originally, so he could be considered her parent. On the other, she's genetically closer to being his twin sister due to the whole cloning thing. But I guess calling them cousins does simplify things a little."

Clone? Did he say she was a clone of Danny? Maddie tried to get another glimpse of the girl, Danielle, who was desperately trying to keep the older boy between her and the surprised parents. Danny was currently burying his face into his hands and moaning in annoyance.

"Remind me to murder Tucker later," he muttered.

"Danny… Please talk to us," Maddie urged gently. "I think you really need to explain what he's talking about."

His shoulders slumping, the boy said, "Fine. I knew this was going to happen sometime. I was just hoping to put it off for a little longer." He glanced at the confused and concerned-looking werewolf ghost, "Wulf, could you grab Tucker and drag him downstairs? And possibly knock some sense into him about the art of _not_ blabbing secrets at random."

"What?" the bespectacled boy asked, peering back into the living room in confusion. "I thought you would have already told them the basics about Danielle and everything. How was I supposed to know?"

Wulf, either obeying Danny's instructions or realizing that a private conversation was about to begin, grabbed onto Tucker's shoulder and phased them both through the floor. That left only Maddie, Jack, and the two kids in the room. There was a tense and awkward silence for several minutes as the boy seemed to be racking his brains for the best way to begin.

"Well, this is awkward," stated Jack finally.

* * *

Danielle Phantom wasn't scared of much. Granted, there was a time where she was completely and justifiably afraid of dissolving into a puddle of ectoplasm, but that fear wasn't really an issue anymore. Danny took care of that. There was also a time where she was afraid of disappointing her fath— _no_ , Vlad. Not her father. Not anymore. He didn't deserve that title. He'd given up all rights to that name. He wasn't her family any longer. Danny was her family. She could trust and depend on Danny when she was in trouble. In the months of her existence, she'd gone from thinking that Vlad actually cared about her to _knowing_ that Danny did. She could take care of herself just fine and Wulf did a great job at helping her out, but it was nice to know that there was someone out there in the world who would face any problem or fight any enemy if it meant keeping her safe. He was exactly what a family was supposed to be like and she was perfectly happy to have him as her "cousin."

But while he might be _her_ only family, he had far more relatives. That was the root of her current discomfort. Dani did her best to keep Danny between her and his parents. She didn't really know them (or his older sister), but she felt so nervous for some reason she couldn't explain. She'd heard about them from Vlad. He always talked about what an idiot Jack Fenton was and how wonderful Maddie Fenton, once called Madeline Murphy, was. She'd listen to him repeatedly make comments on how he should have been the one to marry her and that Jack betrayed him by stealing her away. But after learning how little Vlad cared about her, about how he would throw her life away in the pursuit of what _he_ wanted, she couldn't really accept his description of anything anymore.

These were Danny's parents. He loved them and they loved him. And they didn't just toss him aside in order to perfect the next model. They didn't want to replace him with someone supposedly better. They wanted him just the way he was. And, if the news reports surrounding the Dis-asteroid were to be believed, they completely accepted his ghost half as well as his human half. They were a perfectly happy family from what she understood.

Maybe that was why she was nervous about making a bad impression or not having them like her. She knew this was Danny's family and that she could take care of herself perfectly well on her own, but… maybe part of her wanted at least a little of what he had. She wanted them to like her, to accept her, and not see her as the imperfect clone. Dani knew they probably wouldn't be happy about their son being cloned, but she'd been hoping that she could at least avoid making them angry and not telling them the truth. She'd wanted to wait until she could experience a little bit of what it might be like to have more family than just Danny.

Now they were going to hate her. She knew it. How could they not? She was an imperfect copy of their son created by their enemy. Danny would always love his little "cousin," she knew without a doubt, but she didn't want to face the total rejection from her "Aunt" Maddie and "Uncle" Jack that were certain to follow the explanation of her origins.

"Mom, Dad, I think you should sit down for this," Danny began slowly. "This… gets a little complicated."

As the pair moved to comply, Dani risked a quick peek at the adults. Both were wearing jumpsuits, though the woman wore a blue one with the hood and goggles on while the larger man wore a bright orange one. From Vlad's holograms, she knew that "Aunt" Maddie had brown hair that was shorter than Dani's. "Uncle" Jack had black hair, similar to hers and Danny's.

While obviously confused and concerned, there also seemed to be a sort of "happy" feeling between the pair. They belonged together. Even if the girl wasn't that concern with romance and all that nonsense, she could tell that Vlad never stood a chance of driving the pair apart. No wonder he wanted "Uncle" Jack dead. "Aunt" Maddie would have never left otherwise. What was also obvious to the girl was that they both cared about their son with all their hearts. She knew that protective look in their eyes; it was the same sort of look Danny sometimes directed at her.

What would it have been like to grow up with them? Would it have been nice? What would it have been like to have a childhood at all? These questions flitted around her mind momentarily before Dani promptly squashed them away. She could always ask Danny later. After, of course, he revealed the truth about her origin.

"You know how Vlad was a seriously crazed-up fruit-loop with delusions of getting rid of Dad, winning over Mom, and adopting me as his perfect son?" the boy asked hesitantly.

"Yes," responded Jack, a rather irate look in his eyes at the mention of the man.

"Well, at some point after he'd figured out I wasn't going to be joining him on my own free will, but before he'd broke down to the point of petty revenge against me, he… decided to get creative with his goals," he explained slowly. "Since I wouldn't be his perfect son, he apparently thought it would be a great idea to make his _own_ Danny Phantom."

"Which is what Tucker meant when he mentioned the 'cloning thing'," Maddie said, anger clearly boiling below the surface in both of the parents. "We should have blasted him to oblivion when we had the chance."

He nodded, "Yeah. Of course, it turns out cloning a half-ghost isn't that easy. Most of his first attempts weren't anything like me, not that bright, and completely unstable. They had a bad tendency of dissolving into ectoplasm."

Dani managed to repress the urge to shudder. She really didn't have that many strong feelings for her fellow clones, the closest things she had to "siblings." They were barely sentient, completely reliant on basic instructions and instincts. She was the first one of them to act like a real person. And his "perfect" clone was never even complete, so she never had a chance to know him. But that didn't mean she was happy with the idea of them dissolving away into goo, especially when she came so close to sharing their fate.

"Then we got Danielle, who was at least a lot closer to what he was looking for and different than the other clones. She's funny, brave, independent, and capable of handling anything the world tries to throw at her." Danny smiled down at her before sliding to the side, leaving her completely in view of his parents. "We even solved the instability problem, so she's not going to dissolve into goo. But Vlad wanted an exact copy of me, his ideal son. And he was willing to risk Danielle's life to make it happen."

"Not exactly Father of the Year material," muttered Danielle, almost instinctively.

"So I convinced her that Vlad didn't care about her properly, which was completely true since he's a crazy fruit-loop, and she left him. I was planning on telling you guys about her eventually. I promise," Danny continued. "I just wanted to give you a little time to get used to everything. It wasn't that long ago you were learning that I'm Danny Phantom. I thought springing Danielle on you might be too much at once."

Dani just stood there uneasily as he finished his explanation. She didn't know how they would react. She wasn't even sure why she should even _care_ how they react. She already knew they weren't going to be happier with her since she was a copy of their son. And she knew Danny wouldn't let them do anything too bad if they decided to react strongly to the news. She knew she would be all right, but that didn't stop her from feeling anxious about the situation.

"When you say she left him, where did she go?" Jack asked slowly.

Danny looked at her, leaving no doubt in the girl's mind that he intended for her to answer the question. Dani fought the urge to slide back behind him. Or smack him with a couch cushion for making her the center of attention at the moment.

"I just left, flying off into the sunset dramatically," she said, shrugging. "I kind of wander around, sometimes helping out people sort of like Danny does. Mostly I hang around with Wulf now. We kind of keep drifting between the Ghost Zone and Earth since he makes it so easy to travel that way."

"But where do you live?" asked Maddie.

"Uh… Nowhere, really. That's sort of what happens. No home, no family… but on the bright side, no school either. Every kid's dream, right?" she said casually, trying to lighten the mood in the room with a slight joke at the end.

What she didn't expect was to be quickly scooped up in a hug by the jumpsuit-wearing woman. The grip was a little too tight and Dani knew she could easily phase out of the surprise hug, but she quickly found she didn't mind the mildly uncomfortable embrace. It was sort of nice.

"That's not true anymore," Maddie said firmly, not yet letting go. "You do have a family. And you'll have a home here as long as you want one."

Then Jack joined in on the hug session with a far too cheerful grin on his face, "That's right. And we can teach you all about how to hunt down ghosts and build ecto-weapons. And we'll get you a jumpsuit. It'll be fun." He paused a moment before adding, "But you're definitely going to school."

Danielle managed to get her head free from the impromptu group hug enough to see Danny staring down at her with a proud and vaguely pitying expression.

"Welcome to the family, Cuz," he said. "Our crazy, crazy family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Danielle has officially met Jack and Maddie Fenton, who demonstrate instantly that they are good and open-minded parents. And are still angry with Vlad. Not to mention there is now a plan of attack against Ammit. Granted, the plan boils down to the simple concept of "blow the guy up," but they still have to get everything ready and keep him from killing off the city's population until they finish building the thing.


	6. Help

"So we manage to hide the fact that our best friend is half ghost all that time, but you blurt out the clone thing to his parents at the first opportunity," growled Sam, glaring at Tucker while the surrounding ghosts and Jazz watched. "Are you crazy?"

"Hey, I thought he told his parents about Danielle," he defended, throwing his arms up in surrender. "He told them all the other secrets and stuff. How was I supposed to know he left her out of his explanations or that she'd show up? This wouldn't have happened if someone kept me up to date on which secrets are still secret and which are now common knowledge. You could have, I don't know, emailed me a list. It was easier when _all_ ghost stuff was off limits instead of just certain topics."

The dark-haired girl continued to glare, "Well, now he and Danielle have to make sure that your slip of the tongue doesn't end up make things more stressful or crazy for them."

Jazz, after receiving the abbreviated version of events between Sam's mild rant about how thick-headed Tucker was, tried to wrap her head around the idea of a younger, female version of Danny. It was odd, but no more so than learning her brother was the local hero who fought ghosts on a regular basis. And though she'd never met the younger girl, Jazz knew Danielle could do with a friendly ear if even _half_ the issues she was imagining were true. The clone of a hero created and raised by a mentally-unstable enemy of said hero? That was the perfect breeding ground for psychological problems. Thankfully the teenager was familiar with child psychology.

She drew her thoughts to a halt, realizing she was getting ahead of herself. She hadn't even met Danielle yet. Yes, the circumstances of her life were prime material for problems. But that didn't mean she needed to begin psychoanalyzing her. For all the teenager knew, Danielle could be the picture of mental health. Right now, it would be more important to be welcoming and get to know the younger girl.

Besides, she'd always wanted a little sister.

"As fascinating as your little lives are, would it not be wiser to focus on how we are supposed to make the Ghost Child's plan work?" growled Skulker. "I am a hunter, not a guard dog. The whelp is right about needing greater numbers if we are to protect the humans. There are too many of them and they are spread out across the city. Not to mention they run around blindly in a panic at the sight of any ghost who appears. Except maybe the Box Ghost."

"Well, he _isn't_ really that threatening," shrugged Tucker casually.

"Hey," the floating figure complained. "I _am_ dangerous. I could seal humanity's _doom_ just as effectively as anyone. If you continue to doubt my awe-inspiring control of boxes, I will have no choice but to package, ship, and deliver an unstoppable defeat on _all_ who underestimate my might."

"Put a cork in it, doofus," groaned Ember. "Just because no one has kicked your useless self out of here yet doesn't mean we're in the mood to humor you."

Jazz once again saw the brief frown that flashed across the Box Ghost's face before he restored his previous appearance of confidence. The girl couldn't help feeling a slight amount of pity for the blue-skinned specter. She couldn't take him serious as a threat (except for the time with Pandora's Box), but he tried so hard. Everyone treated him like a joke, human and ghost alike. She knew what it was like for no one to treat you as someone serious and capable; her first attempts at ghost fighting left much to be desired. But the apparent confidence and ego displayed by the boastful ghost would suggest to the casual observer that he wasn't bothered much by the clear lack of respect. He seemingly continued his behavior undaunted.

But Jazz wasn't just anyone. She could recognize the signs of a real problem. While some would mistake it for a Superiority Complex, the red-head knew it was the opposite. He appeared to have an Inferiority Complex, which were often masked by apparent Superiority Complex-type behavior.

According to her books, an Inferiority Complex was defined as a lack of self-worth, doubt and uncertainty, and feelings of not measuring up to society's standards. An Inferiority Complex occurred when the feelings of inferiority were intensified in the individual through discouragement or failure. For many, it could be developed through a combination of genetic personality characteristics and personal experiences. Those who were at risk for developing a complex included people who showed signs of low self-esteem or self-worth, of different ethnicity, who have low socioeconomic status, or have a history of depression symptoms. Or, possibly in this case, a ghost who was looked down on by others for not being scary or powerful enough.

There were certain warning signs for someone who may be more prone to developing an Inferiority Complex. For example, someone who was prone to attention and approval seeking behaviors may be more susceptible. And the Box Ghost's loud and dramatic entrances and announcements certainly seemed to fit that description.

The reason she believed it to be an Inferiority Complex rather than a superiority one was simple. Those exhibiting a Superiority Complex have a self-image of supremacy. Those with Superiority Complexes may garner a negative image in those around them, as they are not concerned with the opinions of others about themselves. They simply didn't care what those who were lesser than them thought. This was responsible for the paradox in which those with an Inferiority Complex are the ones who present themselves in the best light possible, while those with a Superiority Complex may not attempt to make themselves look good. This is juxtaposed to an Inferiority Complex where if their knowledge, accuracy, superiority or etc. is challenged, the individual will not stop in their attempts to prove such things until the dissenting party accepts their opinion (or whatever issue it may be). Again this was another reason that those with Inferiority Complexes were often mistaken for having Superiority Complexes when they must express and maintain their superiority in the eyes of others. Many fail to recognize that this is a trait of low self-opinion who care deeply about the opinion of others, not of those who feel superior and have high self-esteem and do not care at all about the opinion of others.

Postponing her analysis for the moment, Jazz turned her attention back to the rest of the conversation. Tucker was explaining to Skulker and Ember about the multiple Ghost Shields that the population would hide under, limiting the area that would need protection. Poindexter was asking questions about how well the school was protected while Technus was absorbed in the process of sketching out diagrams in the corner and running calculations. Dora and the werewolf ghost that previous dragged Tucker back into the basement, Wulf, seemed to be having an odd conversation consisting of English and another language that she couldn't recognize. Sam, while still shooting the occasional death glare at the bespectacled techno-geek, seemed to have calmed down.

"You okay?" Jazz asked the younger girl.

Sighing, Sam answered, "Yeah. Danny was worried about how your parents would react to Danielle. He wanted to wait on the news and do things right. He's protective of his little 'cousin.' I didn't want him to deal with this while in the middle of a world-threatening crisis."

"I'm sure it'll work out. Mom and Dad can occasionally be reasonable. They'll probably want to hunt Vlad down and 'rip him apart molecule by molecule,' but they'll adapt."

"So you're not upset about another secret?" asked the dark-haired girl.

She smiled, "I'm sure Danny would've told me when the time was right. And I know now, so why worry about the past when we have more important things to focus on. Like actually meeting Danielle."

Glancing towards the stairs, Sam said, "Looks like now's your chance."

Jazz looked, spotting her parents and brother re-entering the lab with a smaller figure. Black hair and blue eyes, Danielle reminded the older girl so much of Danny. Including a wary, yet confident expression on her face as the child noted the location of the ghosts in the room and a brief moment where Jazz saw her "cousin's" breath. Even if Danielle looked completely human, the older girl knew she was definitely like Danny in more than appearance. She also looked mildly overwhelmed, giving the teen a clue of how the talk turned out.

As Wulf perked up at the return of the pair of halfas, Jazz gave a wave, "Nice to meet you, Danielle. I'm Jazz."

"Hi?" she answered, confusion etched on her face.

"Just so you know, you're welcome to share my room. Between the two of us, we should be able to keep Danny out of trouble."

The confusion remained in place for a moment before evaporating, the younger girl recognizing the casual and simple welcome to the family. She knew her parents could be overwhelming, so Jazz hoped something more subdue would work to make the younger girl feel more comfortable. The smile on Danielle's face assured her that the girl got the message.

"How did you know she's been swallowed up by the Fenton family?" asked Danny.

"I know Mom and Dad. And I know you," Jazz answered simply.

* * *

Danny had an idea. It wouldn't have worked that well earlier, but now he had more options. There were risks, especially since it would mean sending someone to the Ghost Zone while Ammit was lurking there, but it could be worse. At least they would have a reliable escape if they ran into trouble.

"Okay, we need to try recruiting some help," he stated carefully to his so-called troops. "Wulf and Danielle joining us is useful, but we still can't defend the entire population of Amity Park if Ammit is really as bad as we think."

"Question," interrupted Technus, raising his hand. The ghost was mostly engrossed by the development and planning for the never-before-seen technology with Danny's parents, writing formulas and devising mechanical solutions to issues far too complicated for the halfa to easily follow. Sometimes it was hard to recall the specter who once declared all his plans at the top of his lungs was also a genius at understanding the technology he controlled. Carefully, Technus continued, "I know she is like you in many ways other than age and gender. Does that mean the girl…?"

"Can beat you up?" smirked Danielle, her eyes briefly flashing green. "Pretty much."

"Great," Ember muttered, rolling her eyes. "Another one."

Taking a moment to look at Skulker, Danny warned, "Hunt me all you want, but if you try adding my cousin to your collection, we're going to have a serious problem. Got it?"

"While her existence reduces the rarity of half-ghosts, I still find you to be the greater prize," smirked the hunter. "I have no issue with leaving the younger, weaker, and less challenging ghost girl alone so I can focus on the more worthy prey."

"Wait, 'weaker'?" snarled Danielle, the dark-haired girl almost launching herself at the larger ghost before Jazz grabbed her. "I'm not worthy? I'll show you 'less challenging.'"

"Dude, this isn't exactly an honor you want," Tucker said.

"Chill out, Danielle," said Danny. "Can we focus? Okay, look, I have a couple ideas of where we can find some help. We can't _make_ them fight Ammit, but they just might agree if we ask them." He paused, walking over to where Sam and Tucker waited, "You'll have to ask them. Wulf can get you there, but I need you to go with him to do the actual asking."

"So you're sending us into the Ghost Zone, where the psycho is?" asked Tucker. "You know, you're lucky we like you, Danny."

"I wouldn't send you if it wasn't important," he assured. "But I trust you guys to get the job done and I need to stick around in case some of our less-friendly allies here decide to get a little restless." Skulker and Technus shot him an annoyed look, but said nothing as the boy continued, "I need you to talk to Frostbite first. He'll at least be civil to you and definitely won't attack on sight. Plus, I doubt he and tribe will leave their home, so he'll be easy to find. If they agree, they can help guard the mall during the attack since most of the people should head there for shelter."

"You got it, Danny," Sam nodded.

"Axion Labs is smaller, farther away from everything else, and has reasonable security," the halfa continued. "If you can recruit a couple of ghosts, that should be enough. Especially if Valerie decides to stay close to her dad."

"Who are we asking?" said Sam. "We don't exactly have an abundance of friends in the Ghost Zone and most of them are either here, Frostbite, or Clockwork."

"Someone else who plays with ice and definitely wouldn't say 'no' to being friends," he answered simply.

" _Him_?" asked Tucker, quickly working on his PDA in likely an attempt to prepare everything possible before he left. "He's almost as annoying as the Box Ghost. Maybe not as useless, but still annoying."

"Come on, I'm floating right here," the Box Ghost complained.

Ignoring the interruptions, Danny explained, "Ask Frostbite to borrow the Infinity Map if necessary. He's clingy, but not as bad as he used to be. At least Cujo likes him and keeps him company. Klemper and Cujo should be able to keep Axiom safe."

"Dora and I can take care of the school, no sweat," Poindexter volunteered. "And I have an idea of where to find a little extra help, but I'm not sure she'll be there. We can check, though. She's a real character and could really be a wild help."

Smiling at the offer, Danny nodded, "Thanks."

"I'm going with Sam, Tucker, and Wulf," announced Danielle.

"What?" yelped the halfa.

"Come on, Cuz. They'll need back-up and Wulf is my friend. I'll keep an eye on them while we round up your army," she explained. Gaining a smirk, she added, "Don't worry. I'll protect your girlfriend."

"I didn't tell you she's my girlfriend. How did you…?" he began to ask before trailing off. "Did everyone figure it out before us?"

"Duh," said Ember.

"It was fairly clear, even to those who did not know you well," Dora added.

"Fine," Danny sighed. "Be careful. Run from danger, don't fight. And you all better come back in one piece."

"We'll do our best," assured Tucker as he slung an arm around Wulf casually. "Of course, we've got the best escape strategy possible. Right, buddy?"

As the werewolf ghost nodded enthusiastically, Sam wrapped Danny in a tight hug and whispered, "Please don't do anything stupid while we're gone."

"Hey, you're the ones heading for the Ghost Zone," he reminded. "Make sure you and the others stay out of trouble."

"Can we skip the rest of the public displays of affection," shouted Technus from his corner of the lab, surrounded by paper covered in numbers and floating calculators. "That's a little distracting for the ones doing complicated work over here. Hurry up and find some more dumb muscle."

"And now the mood is ruined," muttered Danny, reluctantly releasing his grip on her.

As Wulf sliced a hole to the Ghost Zone, producing an appreciative gasp of excitement from Danny's father, Danielle said, "Don't worry, Cuz. We'll be back before you know it."

As the small group slipped through the tear in reality to the colder landscape beyond (Jack Fenton muttering about the similarities of Wulf's ability to his long-since stolen Portal Creator until his wife drew his attention back to work), Danny couldn't help worrying. His girlfriend, best friend, cousin, and one of the truly friendly ghosts he knew were all headed into the Ghost Zone. Yes, they were headed towards allies. But who knew where exactly Ammit might be…

"Danny," Jazz's voice drew him out of his thoughts, the older girl appearing beside him with the reliability he'd grown to appreciate. "Can we talk to you a second?"

"Sure," he nodded before glancing towards the remaining ghosts in the basement. Giving them a firm look, he asked, "Can you guys behave for five minutes on your own?"

"Don't worry. I'll keep a close watch on them," stated Poindexter.

"Teacher's pet," muttered Ember.

Trying not to chuckle at the idea of what the black-and-white ghost trying to stop someone like Skulker from misbehaving would look like, Danny sat down on the stairs next to his sister. It was far enough away to offer some privacy for the conversation, but he could still keep watch on the various specters. As he waited for Jazz to begin talking, he noticed she looked rather thoughtful.

"At the moment," she said slowly, "we're just waiting around for something to happen. Mom, Dad, and Technus are working, Poindexter said he was going to check on someone who might help later, and Sam, Tucker, Wulf, and Danielle are gone looking for more ghosts to join us. But the rest of us don't have anything to do until Ammit starts arriving." The teenager paused, glancing towards the rest of the lab before continuing, "I have an idea of how I could help more while we wait. Not to mention it'll be a great opportunity to explore the thought-process and mentality of a ghost."

"Wait, wait, time out," interrupted Danny. "Are you saying you want to offer therapy to my enemies? You know the couples therapy idea was mostly a joke, right? I mean, I know you could do it and everything, but mentally-healthy ghosts are probably a bad thing for me. None of them are completely sane, but that makes them easier to fight sometimes." On the other hand, Vlad was the opposite of perfect mental health and he was always a tough opponent. But the eccentricities of the other ghosts at least made it easier to predict their behavior. Giving them therapy would make them more dangerous, which wasn't something Danny wanted to deal with after the Ammit crisis passed. "Why would you want to make my enemies more competent and deadly? I'm pretty sure you don't enjoy watching them try to pound me into the dirt on a regular basis."

"I want to help him," she explained. "He deserves someone to believe in him. I think he might have more potential than anyone might realize. Everyone treats him like a loser, but maybe he could be more than that. He just needs help and the chance to prove himself."

Danny relaxed at her words. She had to be talking about Sidney Poindexter. He should have known she wasn't crazy. If Jazz wanted to be the therapist for the ultimate bullying victim, he wouldn't mind. The monochromatic ghost was fairly reasonable and rarely ended up on the wrong side of the group. He wasn't that bad of a guy as long as he didn't think you were a bully. If there was any ghost that would be ideal for his sister to start psychoanalyzing, Poindexter was it.

"Fine, if you're eager to be a therapist for specters, go ahead," he said. "Considering who it is, the fallout won't be as bad as I thought. Besides, Poindexter deserves a little therapy. Being the target of all bullies in the school isn't exactly easy, regardless of whether you're human or a ghost."

Frowning momentarily, she said, "While it's true he could benefit from having someone to talk to, I didn't mean Sidney. I was actually talking about the Box Ghost."

There was a moment of surprised silence before the black-haired boy burst into laughter. His reaction produced some curious looks from the ghosts across the room and a disapproving glare from Jazz, but Danny couldn't help it. After everything else that evening, from the uncomfortable sensation of Ammit's awakening to the disconcerting visit to learn about the deadly threat to taking the responsibility for a planned ecto-destroying bomb, he needed a laugh.

"You want to be Box Ghost's therapist?" he chuckled. "You're going to… to listen to him complain about his childhood or something so you can find the root of all his problems? We already know _that_. His issue is that he's annoying, but harmless. He's a joke, Jazz."

"And that kind of behavior is why I believe he truly needs help," stated the red-head teen, crossing her arms.

Trying to be serious for a moment, even if it was hard to treat anything dealing with the Box Ghost as a real issue, Danny asked, "What do you plan to help him with? Deflating his ego so people won't want to hit him as much?"

Sighing slightly, she said, "Based on what you've told me about your past interactions with him and what I've observed, I think he might have an Inferiority Complex."

"Don't you mean a 'Superiority' Complex? Every time we see him, he starts bragging about how he'll bring our doom and shouting 'beware.' It sounds like the opposite of an Inferiority Complex."

"You'd be surprised. Often, when someone has an Inferiority Complex, they'll overcompensate for their extremely low self-esteem and self-worth by trying to convince others that they are important. Because they believe they are less capable, skilled, or worthy than anyone else, they seek to hide that supposed fact by convincing others they are better than anyone else. They want external adulation because they can only see their own flaws and shortcomings."

Danny stared at her in silence for a moment, his mind carefully turning over his sister's words. When viewed like that, all the Box Ghost's actions made sense. The annoying pest kept bragging about the impressiveness of his control over boxes because he _knew_ how pathetic it was and wanted to find a way to keep others from realizing it. He blustered, bragged, and refused to leave because there was no other way for him to get the attention he wanted to make up for the fact he was literally the most harmless ghost ever. It was as if he was hoping that if he could convince even one person he wasn't completely useless, he might someday believe it too.

"No fair making me pity the Box Ghost, Jazz," muttered the boy finally. "You _do_ remember the headaches he caused with Pandora's Box, right?"

"And why did he take it? Because he wanted to prove he was right when he claimed to be dangerous. To demonstrate he was worthy of being your opponent, that he was worthy of being considered a real threat. He wants respect, Danny. I'm not saying he doesn't have a flair for the dramatic since he makes the loud declarations about doom and cardboard, but I _do_ think he has self-confidence issues that could be strongly influencing that behavior."

"So what exactly do you have in mind?"

"First, I'm going to just try talking to him so I can figure out if my theory is correct," she said, her chin resting on her fist thoughtfully. "Next, if he does have an Inferiority Complex, I'll try to devise a strategy to address his confidence issues and attempt to find healthier methods for him to deal with his self-image problems than shouting and trying to attack people with boxes at random."

"You've really thought this out, haven't you?"

Jazz smiled wryly, "I know I can't fight ghosts like you do and I know I still need work if I want to fight them using Sam and Tucker or Mom and Dad's methods. You guys have more practice at it. But I understand psychology. This is something I can help with. And we both know from the Spectra fiasco that self-doubt can negatively influence your capabilities and how well you use your skills. Since the Box Ghost wants to help in the fight against Ammit, we should at least help him reach his greatest potential to do so. A little confidence can make a huge difference. Who knows what he could do in the right circumstances?"

A memory of the distant and dark future took this opportunity to reassert itself. Danny recalled the state he found his old foes in the Ghost Zone. For the most part, they'd been shadows of their former selves due to his dark future version's actions. Granted, Skulker and Technus combined to maximize their strength, but Ember, Johnny 13, and the rest were left broken and bitter. But not the Box Ghost. He was angry, more subdue, wearing a hook for a hand and legitimately intimidating. He was more powerful than the specter Danny was familiar with, which offered at least some evidence that Jazz might be on to something with her talk about his potential. Considering their coming opponent, they needed a less harmless Box Ghost and more of the scary dangerous one that existed in the dark vision of a no-longer-existing future.

"If you think you can help him be less… useless and loud, I guess you can try," Danny said slowly. "I just have two requests."

"What are they?"

"First, don't turn him into a super-competent and deadly ghost unless you're certain he won't use his new confidence to attack me even more often. I really don't want to find out what would happen to my reputation if I start losing to the _Box Ghost_." He paused a moment before giving his sister a mischievous grin, "And second, don't start calling him the 'Crate Creep' again."

Shoving him slightly, she said, "Come on, so I got a few names wrong."

"Even though we were telling you the right ones. Not to mention he announces his name. Loudly."

* * *

Shivering against the abrupt change in temperature from the Fenton's basement, Sam couldn't help wondering if they were all crazy. Wandering the frozen landscape in search of their allies and no one thought to grab a pair of gloves or a coat. Wulf had fur and a hoodie, but she was wearing a _skirt_.

"And why couldn't W-wulf take us straight to Frostbite?" she asked between chattering teeth as they sludged through the snow.

The werewolf ghost muttered something and Tucker translated, "He doesn't exactly know where Frostbite is. He hasn't b-been here before, though he knows about the place vaguely. That means he can slice a portal to the general area. But if he wants to be specific with a location, he n-needs to be very familiar with the spot. So he can get us b-back to Danny's basement since he knows exactly where it is, but not necessarily the lunchroom at our school, f-for example."

"So what does this Frostbite person look like?" asked Danielle, the half-ghost floating above the knee-high snow drifts the others were plowing through.

The halfa was smart enough to transform into her ghostly state upon arriving in the Ghost Zone, meaning not only did she not have to walk, but she also now had gloves on her hands. The fact she looked warmer than the two complete humans did leave Sam with the incredible urge to throw something at her. But the teenager kept reminding herself that it was just the cold talking and she didn't really want to smack Danny's cousin. So she kept her mutterings about lucky halfas to herself as her toes went numb.

"A y-yeti," answered Sam. Noticing the puzzled look, she added, "An abominable snowman. W-white fur, horns, and he's pretty big."

"Awesome," smiled the white-haired halfa. "And he's friends with Danny?"

"Y-yeah," said Tucker, barely managing to avoid tripping and falling into the cold snow. "He and his p-people call him 'the Great One' because he s-stopped Pariah Dark. They love having him visit."

"Too b-bad he isn't closer," Sam muttered, shivering as a blast of icy wind blew across the group.

For the most part, the landscape was kind of pretty. Icy cliffs, snow banks, and calm whiteness stretch as far as the eye could see. Snowflakes swirled in the wind, filling in their footprints behind them. Jagged chunks of ice occasionally poked out of the white powder. It was a unique winter wonderland, but definitely one that was better appreciated when bundled against the cold. In their current state, it was more of a hostile environment that could result in them freezing to death or at least slipping on a barely-visible patch of ice.

"No sign of anyone so far," reported Danielle. "On the bright side, that means that Ammit dude isn't here."

"Bad news is w-we're going to get frostbite before we can f- _find_ Frostbite," the boy said.

"Q-quit complaining, Tucker. At least you're w-wearing pants," snapped the Goth girl. "My legs are f-freezing."

"Friends of the Great One," a booming voice said abruptly.

The reaction to the surprising greeting was immediate. Danielle nearly tumbled out of the sky, barely getting control of her flight in time to prevent a face-plant. Tucker tripped and disappeared into a snowdrift, leaving a clear impression of his figure behind. Sam stumbled forward and managed to grab Wulf's sleeve to recover her balance before she could perform an encore to her friend's display. The werewolf ghost switched to attack mode, his hackles rising and a deep growl emerging from his throat.

"What brings you here in these troubling times?" the voice continued, the sound easily carrying over the howling wind.

Sam finally spotted him, his pale fur easily allowing him to vanish into the swirling snow. A tall yeti ghost with a surprisingly friendly face considering the pointy teeth. Both his horns and his left arm seemed to be constructed purely by ice. Gold appeared on him around his waist and as an armlet while a blue cloak was draped around his shoulders. While undoubtedly formidable and skilled in the art of manipulating the cold, Frostbite was no threat. Though he was apparently stealthier than they'd imagined.

Popping his head out of the snowdrift, Tucker took one look at the new arrival before turning to the growling werewolf, "Chill out, Wulf." He paused briefly, likely because he just noticed the pun, before continuing, "He's our friend. In f-fact, he's the guy we're looking for."

"He's Frostbite?" asked Danielle, landing in the snow next to the werewolf ghost. Placing a hand comfortingly on Wulf's arm, she remarked, "You didn't mention his arm was replaced by ice. I mean, you can see the bones and everything."

"It didn't c-come up yet," Sam said.

"I am certain I have not yet met you, but you resemble the Great One quite closely," stated the yeti ghost, peering at the white-haired girl carefully. "Are you related to him?"

"Sort of. He's my cousin," Danielle said before gesturing towards her companion. "And this is mine and Danny's friend, Wulf. I guess you've already met Tucker and Sam."

"Yes," he smiled. "Any friend or family of the Great One is always welcome here. I have a feeling, however, that your arrival so soon after the awakening of the evil Ammit is no mere coincidence." His face grew more somber, "I ask you again, what brings you to these realms?"

"W-we'll tell you, but f-first I have a small request," said Tucker. "Can we talk somewhere w-warmer?"

* * *

Darkness moved through the Ghost Zone, seeking out a challenging foe. He ignored many of the smaller ghosts he passed, sensing they were far too weak to offer any kind of entertainment to destroy. He was bored with them. After so long asleep, Ammit wanted a proper opponent. The timid scurrying things weren't nearly satisfying enough. Of course, if they were too foolish to get out of his reach in time, he didn't mind reaching out a quick tendril of shadows to end their existence.

He knew there would be a proper opponent somewhere. Perhaps that little Pariah Dark creature he fought before. That could be a mildly entertaining challenge. Or maybe Clockwork. But a new opponent, one he'd never faced before and didn't know their strategies, would be a far more satisfying choice. Surely there was a new ghost with enough power to make it worth his time?

A young boy of a ghost and a skeletal companion crouched just out of reach of the enveloping darkness around Ammit. He could feel a glamour around the child-like figure, intended to hide him from the sight of adults. That illusion had no effect on someone with his power, though the child ghost and his companion clearly hoped it was enough to protect them. Ammit contemplated momentarily the idea of taking time from his search to slaughter the pair. It could be vaguely amusing to see their reactions to learning he could sense their presence. On the other hand, the power present in the young specter was nowhere close to that of the ghost who awoke him nor the dragon who tried to fight him. Ammit knew it would be over too fast to be satisfactory. He would kill him eventually of course, but perhaps not until he finished locating a more entertaining opponent to relieve his boredom.

"I think we're safe," whispered the child, wearing a black-and-white striped outfit with a small black mask around his eyes. "So he's the guy who interrupted our game of cops and robbers? He doesn't look so tough."

"Quiet," the skeletal cat hissed.

"If you wish to be destroyed now instead of later, I can oblige," announced Ammit, having decided that perhaps a quick death would at least relieve some of his boredom.

Dozens of shadowy tendrils shot out towards the pair, startling them. The skeletal cat managed to barely yank the ghost child out of their path in time. Now realizing they could be seen, they were forced to dodge further attacks by Ammit. Barely even trying or paying attention to his efforts, he sent the cringing pair scurrying away. Rather than waste the time and energy to pursue them further, Ammit allowed them to slip through one of the floating doors and escape.

It didn't matter after all. In time, he would slaughter them all.

* * *

Earth was such a wonderful sight after spending so long in the vast emptiness of space. He'd never realized how precious something as small as a sense of direction offered by the pull of gravity could be. And space was completely silent. Earth never was. There was always some form of background noise. Cars driving by, birds chirping, wind blowing, people talking… It was never silent. Vlad missed those sounds. He'd missed the colors of plants, machinery, and buildings, even the obnoxious neon signs. From the wind in his face to the stench of the dumpster behind the Nasty Burger that assaulted his nose as he flew by, he'd missed Earth.

It was dark for the moment, though not nearly as bad as it was where he'd been floating previously. He hadn't noticed before how late it was in Amity Park. Space made his sense of time a little confusing. At least it hadn't ruined his sense of direction.

He flew over the mostly empty streets, catching glimpses through windows of happy families gathered together. Many of them were preparing their children for bed. Others were eating a late dinner or watching a movie on the couch. There was a comfortable familiarity in the movements of people. Though it also left him completely aware of exactly how alone he was in the world.

Spotting his goal was easy. The giant sign attached to the building and the engineered monstrosity mounted on top was impossible to miss. Once he would have considered them gaudy and annoying, especially considering his distaste for the name written in glowing letters since it reminded him of the fact Maddie wasn't his. Now, Vlad couldn't be happier to see the familiar landmark.

With no witnesess on the street to observe him, he landed in front of the residence. Then, for the first time in he couldn't even recall for certain how long, he changed back into his human form. At first, it felt strange for the ectoplasm to fade away and leave flesh and blood behind. The human necessities of oxygen and food felt like a strange burden that he'd nearly forgotten, but the sensation quickly passed as he re-familiarized himself with his other shape. A fashionable suit, white hair, and a normal skin tone were all traits he'd not possessed since his self-imposed banishment.

Vlad stared at the door a moment, wondering how best to proceed. Should he first explore the household invisibly and learn what the current situation of the family within was? Or would the risk of setting off the boy's ability to detect the presence of ghost be too great? Having him be discovered sneaking around would do little to endear himself to the family that he'd come to protect. He knew that there would be immeasurable amounts of distrust from those within the house. There was too much history and he'd burned too many bridges during the Dis-asteroid incident. But he also knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't try to help keep this family safe from what was to come.

Realizing he was stalling, Vlad finally rang the doorbell. He didn't know who would open the door or what their reaction would be, but he would have to deal with it as best he could. After years of selfish, bitter, cruel, and self-centered decisions, he needed to do at least one thing that was right.

The door opened and he was met with a stunned expression from a blue-eyed, black-haired teenager who couldn't seem to find any words.

With a tired and uneasy smile, Vlad said, "Hello, Daniel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you found this to be an interesting chapter. Yes, there was some psychology talk from Jazz in this chapter. It was bound to come up. That's just something that she's knowledgeable about. Hopefully she'll be able to put her knowledge and textbooks to some good use.
> 
> There's also a glimpse of Ammit almost taking out Youngblood and his little friend. I figured I'd little him get away (barely). I don't know why since I'm not a huge fan of that character comparatively speaking, but I decided to let him escape with his (after)life.
> 
> Finally, Vlad's back on Earth and at the door. That's certain to make things a little stressful and uncomfortable for everyone involved.


	7. Vlad

Danny couldn't believe it. Normally his family was lucky to get one unexpected arrival in a day (not counting Sam and Tucker since they tended to waltz in whenever they wanted). Tonight the doorbell was ringing for the second time already. Considering the hour, he couldn't even guess who would want to talk to the Fentons this time. He didn't have any other long-lost relatives to show up on the doorstep.

Considering the fact his parents were absorbed in their work and Jazz was subtly broaching the topic of a private conversation with the Box Ghost, he once again found himself left with the task of answering the front door. While he briefly debated with himself over the idea of pretending not to be home, the teen reluctantly ran up the stairs.

He opened the door, fully intending to get rid of the unexpected guest as quickly as possible without raising suspicions. Then the words died in his throat as Danny saw who exactly he was dealing with.

With white hair, a trimmed beard, an expensive suit, and looking the same as he did right before trying to extort the world for money and power was Vlad Masters. Every instinct screamed at Danny to brace himself for an attack. Was the man alone or did he have a copy positioned to strike first? Did he plan to go after Danny strictly or were his parents the real target? Possibilities raced through the teen's mind as his body tried to shrug off the shock of the unexpected return of his worst enemy.

"Hello, Daniel," the man greeted.

"Vlad," snapped the boy, his hand curling into a fist at his side. "Give me one reason why I should hit you so hard you'll have to crawl back to that rock you've been hiding under."

"Actually, I was in space. There isn't that much 'under.' Directions don't matter that much without gravity. I'm sure your science teachers would have mentioned that."

"You know how much school and I get along. I'm still not hearing any reason why I shouldn't beat you up on our doorstep."

"Daniel, I know you're smarter than that. Having Danny Phantom start a fight right in front of your house isn't the best strategy to keep a secret."

The boy almost asked what he meant, but figured it out quickly enough. Vlad didn't know everyone else knew. He wasn't around when his parents and the world learned his identity. The man thought it was still a carefully-guarded secret.

The strange thing was the fact Vlad's words lacked the implied threat to reveal that secret. The tone was wrong for that. Before, Danny could keep the man's silence because of their mutual alter egos. As long as the boy didn't reveal Vlad's identity, the man couldn't risk unmasking Danny. But that leverage evaporated the moment Masters became Plasmius in front of a crowd. So where was the threat against spilling Danny's "secret"?

Actually, that wasn't the oddest thing. The weirdest thing wasn't what the man was saying or not saying, but _how_ he was saying it. There were no veiled threats, no biting sarcasm, no mocking tone that didn't hide how little he considered Danny a danger to his plans, no undercurrent of anger and annoyance, and no smirking confidence. All the normal subtleties of his interactions seemed to be missing. Vlad's words and tone were simple and seemingly honest.

And that terrified the boy. The man was a born manipulator. He toyed with others, tangling them up in his schemes. He always knew the right way to twist and trick people into fulfilling his plans. Danny knew this. Out-thinking Vlad was nearly impossible unless the man made a mistake due to his obsession with the "kill Jack, marry Maddie, make Danny into new son" thing, he was overconfident, or if luck was on the boy's side. The world was Vlad's chess set and he possessed decades of experience using his powers to play the game. There was always something, a hidden agenda or a back-up plan. So an honest, straightforward Vlad was scary because all Danny could think was that he was missing the scheme completely this time and the "nice guy" smokescreen was hiding something that could be fatal to his family.

Silently reminding himself that the ghosts in his basement would probably try to protect his parents, even if for no other reason than to make certain there was a way to stop Ammit, Danny glared up at the original halfa, "I'll risk disturbing the neighbors. Now, get out of here and leave us alone. Haven't you caused us enough trouble for one lifetime?"

"Yes."

The short, blunt, and tired answer stopped the boy cold. One word was all it took to shift his mood from deeply suspicious to vaguely curious (while still mostly suspicious). There was something different about the man, something that was both strange and yet sparked a hint of déjà vu in Danny. The body language and tone were wrong for the Vlad he knew and yet he recognized it somehow.

Something about the unexplained familiarity of the odd behavior prompted him into an action every shred of common sense screamed against. Danny didn't like the idea, but his mouth was already proceeding.

"Come on. You're going to start talking. But let's avoid having someone call the cops because they spotted the guy who tried to take over the world and used to be filthy rich before showing off his ghost half. That could be annoying."

Grabbing the arm of his expensive suit, Danny yanked his archenemy into the house and shoved him onto the couch. The boy then leaned against the wall, positioning himself so that he was right next to the button that would activate the home security system, the happily-adjusted Fenton Works Anti-Creep Mode. The meaning was clear: if Vlad made one wrong move, ecto-weapons would start blasting.

"Why. Are. You. Here?" Danny asked sharply, giving the man an icy glare that threatened to become more literal if he let his control slip. "No one knows what happened to you for months. I was hoping you were finally out of my life. Now you pop up on our front step and I want to know _why_. Talk. You have one chance."

"Daniel, I assume you felt something rather unnerving a few hours ago," he began slowly.

"Yeah, I did. All the ghosts did. That would be Ammit waking up. Scary tough ghost from the past, called a girl demon in Egyptian myth, kills everything. I'm already up to speed," said the boy shortly. "Continue."

Vlad blinked at him in surprise for a moment before explaining, "Well, sufficient to say even being in space didn't keep me from noticing his awakening. I'm familiar enough with the stories to know who he is and what he's capable of. That's why I had to return."

"Why? Planning a repeat performance of what happened with Pariah Dark? Or Vortex?" asked Danny. "You really need to stop messing with powerful ghosts, Vlad. You can't control them and I end up cleaning your messes. I'm surprised you didn't accidentally unleash Ammit yourself in one of your plans for power."

"I'm here, Daniel, because I know your hero complex will cause you to throw yourself in Ammit's path, even when you're clearly outmatched. You'll be killed if you charge in like normal, leaving your family defenseless and to be later undoubtedly destroyed themselves."

"So is that your new strategy? Swoop in and carry my mom out of harm's way? Maybe even dragging me and Jazz along, 'accidentally' leaving my dad behind? Hide us in some bunker as all other humans and ghosts are destroyed and you try to repopulate the Earth with Mom? I wish I could say I'd be surprised, but that's the sort of crazy plot you'd come up with."

"For someone who wants answers so badly, you really don't have the patience to listen."

Danny knew he was right, but he couldn't help it. Vlad's presence was sparking his temper. He was stressed, he hated the guy, and Vlad was completely untrustworthy. He wanted to throw the man out of his home and his common sense shrieked that the older halfa was dangerous to everyone in the house, but some instinct kept urging Danny to wait. Whatever the strange, yet familiar tone in the man's voice that made Danny drag him inside was now keeping him from tossing Vlad out yet.

"So what is your angle, Vlad? What game are you playing this time? Even a fruit-loop like you has to see you've lost. Mom _hates_ you. Dad knows your true colors. The world has seen that you're Plasmius and not the nice businessman you pretended to be. Your reputation is toast. Your money, businesses, houses, and even your cat have been taken and divided up. You have no resources left, so you can't even bribe a ghost into helping you out anymore. Assuming, of course, you could find a ghost after they fled Ammit. You're just a lonely, bitter man who wasted his life trying to get a woman who doesn't love you and now doesn't even _like_ you. All you have is yourself and your powers against an entire planet of people who are ticked off over the extortion thing and your failure to keep your promise about the asteroid. Why come back now? What do you hope to gain? How could you possibly plan to benefit from Ammit showing up? You have nothing to work with and no way to gain it all back." Danny's words were coated in frustration and anger with the man in front of him, Vlad barely reacting to the rising volume and confusion from the boy. "I know that a 'mere boy' couldn't possibly measure up to your genius, but enlighten me. What are you planning and _why_ did you have to come back into my _life_?"

Breathing hard after venting some of his fury with the man who did so much to make his life difficult, Danny glared. Vlad still sat on the couch, listening patiently to the boy's tirade. The expression on his face, tired and calm, was almost infuriating to Danny. Where was the mocking smile, confident smirk, or angry snarl? This was wrong. Half of Danny wanted to punch him, blast him with ecto-energy, or _something_ to get a familiar reaction. The other half kept drawing his attention to the slumped shoulders and almost sad glint in the man's eyes. The conflict between the warring impulses further fueled Danny's anger.

"You have to be up to something. You're always up to something. And you never give up, even if it's a lost cause. You spent decades on the same, unreachable goal," he said darkly, his voice dropping to a more conversational (though frustrated) volume. "So there has to be something you believe you can gain coming here. But it won't work. You've lost."

" _I know_!" shouted Vlad, launching himself out of his seat. Danny nearly slammed his hand on the button in surprise at the outburst, but the older halfa remained next to the couch. Fists clenched at his sides, shaking slightly from either his efforts to stay in place or to restrain his emotions, Vlad repeated, "I know, Daniel. I know I've lost. In every sense of the word."

It finally clicked into place. Danny realized why Vlad's demeanor upon arrival seemed both wrong and familiar. It reminded him of another Vlad, an older one from a dark future that would now never come to pass. A guilt-burdened, regretful, broken Vlad who finally realized how wrong he'd truly been.

"You were right," the man said, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I can't win any of it. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve anything. It took a few months alone in space to teach me something that I should have learned decades ago. I'm a terrible person who keeps making choices that only cause harm for everyone, but especially myself."

Danny almost told him that he completely agreed with that opinion, but managed to hold his tongue. There was a painful honesty in the man's voice that left the boy startled. This wasn't a trick. Not unless Vlad actually spent those months taking professional acting lessons.

"Between what I've done to your family and you personally, I don't expect you to believe me or care, but I'm sorry," Vlad continued. "Even if you were foolish enough to offer forgiveness, I wouldn't accept it. And you are many things, but foolish isn't one of them. Me, on the other hand… well, a quick look at my life should demonstrate who the idiot in the room is. With my choices, I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness." He smiled sadly to himself, "I don't deserve many things. The company I created by cheating others. My ill-gotten money and power. Any form of affection from you, Jasmine, or… Danielle. Jack's friendship and loyalty. And especially Maddie's love. I don't deserve any of it. That's probably why I'm left with nothing except my life."

Not certain what to make of that odd admission after listening to so many entitlement speeches from the halfa during their past encounters, Danny said quietly, "If you stay much longer in Amity Park, Ammit will probably take _that_ too."

"I know," Vlad nodded solemnly. "I understand what I'm risking by coming back, Daniel."

"Then why?" asked the boy, growing uneasy with how… _resigned_ the man sounded.

Spreading his hands, he shook his head, "As you pointed out so clearly, I have lost everything including any second chances for a new life. I have no one to blame for that, but myself. And even if I've been self-centered, blind, and obsessive to the point where I treated those I care about badly, I… still love Maddie." He held his hand up before Danny could interrupt. "I don't deserve her, I'll never be with her, and she'll never love me in return, but that doesn't change the fact I love her. Just like I still care about you. And Jasmine. I even care about Jack under all those years of resentment, jealousy, and bitterness. So you can hate me all you want, Daniel, but I couldn't let you be killed by fighting Ammit without coming back." Taking a deep breath, Vlad said the words the boy was dreading. "I'm here to help."

There was a moment of silence as Danny tried to cope with the idea of a remorseful Vlad offering what sounded like a suicidal attempt to protect the Fenton family. He was hoping that either he or the older halfa was suffering a brain injury because it was insane. The idea was entirely insane. Then a furious voice broke the silence.

"You can't be serious."

Both halfas spun to find both Jack and Maddie Fenton at the top of the stairs, ecto-guns aimed at the white-haired man in their living room. While Vlad did raise his hands appeasingly, there was no attempt to get out of their target range. Danny was mildly stunned by the full extent of the anger they were directing at their former friend. If looks could kill, Vlad would be a full ghost by now.

"Hello, Jack," the man said. "Hello, Maddie."

"Masters," growled Danny's father, the venom in his voice causing even the boy to flinch.

"How much did you hear?" asked Danny.

"The two of you started yelling at one point, though we didn't recognize his voice right away," his mother responded, her aim never wavering. "We came up to find out what was happening."

"Then you heard my offer to help," stated Vlad.

"We don't need it," glared Jack. "Besides, after finding out how many lies you've told us, why should we trust you? Give me one reason."

"Out of respect for our old friendship?" he suggested without much force.

"Weren't you the one saying you never considered us friends and that you hated me?"

There was anger in those words, but the boy could also hear something worse in his father's tone. Danny wondered if Vlad knew how much that revelation hurt his dad. While Jack could accept the half-ghost nature of those he cared about, the reveal of the man's feelings of hatred towards the ghost hunter was crueler. Jack thought they were friends and truly liked him until that point. Danny could barely image the agony of such a personal betrayal. It would be like Tucker saying he'd been trying to kill him for years in order to win over Sam.

"I did say that. I might have even believed it," admitted Vlad. "But I won't let you get yourselves killed. Not without trying to prevent it."

"We can take care of ourselves just fine, Masters."

"Don't be an idio—" snapped Vlad before stopping himself. Closing his eyes, he said, "Please, just accept my help. I don't care what I have to do. Use me as bait if you want or you could simply stay out of danger. Just don't…" He trailed off.

"Playing the part of the self-sacrificing hero really doesn't suit you," Danny commented. "Honestly? I want you gone."

"I'd settle for strapped to a dissection table," his mother stated.

"Everyone in this room hates you for what you've done in the past," the boy continued. "None of us can trust you. For all we know, the whole 'guilt and making amends' thing could be an act."

"So hit the road," said Jack. "And don't come back."

Silently wishing he could strangle the Master of Time for this, Danny admitted, "Unfortunately, we need him."

All three adults reacted to this statement with a disbelieving, "What?"

"He offered to help," he reminded. "We have to accept his help."

"But… what about everything he's done?" his mother asked.

"I know. I know better than anyone what he's capable of," sighed Danny. "But he's also powerful and hard to beat. We need that. And I'm not about to ignore the advice from the all-knowing ghost of time. If Clockwork says accept help when offered, we're going to accept that help."

The boy didn't know if the look of surprise that appeared on Vlad's face was mostly because they actually agreed to his offer or because his parents apparently knew who "Clockwork" was, but it was amusing either way. Danny couldn't help smirking slightly at his archenemy.

"You've been gone a while, Vlad," he remarked casually. "You've missed a few interesting developments. Tucker has your old job as mayor. Statues are scattered around the globe of Danny Phantom. And his secret identity… isn't so secret anymore." Partly for effect and partly so he'd be prepared for any reaction from the older halfa, Danny transformed right in front of everyone. Then he grinned smugly, "Welcome temporarily to Team Phantom. There are some conditions, but I'm sure you'll get over them."

He stared at the teen in silence for a few moments, occasionally glancing at Jack and Maddie as if to be certain that the boy was the one he'd have to impress if he wished to remain, and then he nodded, "Very well, Daniel. We'll do things your way. What are the conditions?"

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Danny stated, "Betray us in any manner and the entire Fenton family will hunt you down after the Ammit crisis passes. No attacking any ally of ours. I don't care if they start it. No copies or going ghost until it's time to fight. No causing trouble of any kind. You do exactly what we tell you to do. We'll work with you, but you're the person I trust least on this entire team." Pausing briefly, the boy turned to his parents, "Dad, could you please go downstairs and find the Specter Deflector?"

"Come on now, Daniel," Vlad complained as the man moved to comply.

The boy waved his hand dismissively, "Mom and Dad adjusted it. As long as you stay human, it won't shock you. It'll just keep you from trying anything ahead of schedule. Think of it as an insurance policy."

"I don't suppose a promise for good behavior would suffice," he muttered.

"Look on the bright side, Vlad," Danny grinned evilly. "The only ones who'll be able to punch you in the face will be humans. And once you're properly accessorized, we'll fill you in on the plan."

* * *

Ember fumed as she carefully checked her guitar strings, tuned the instrument, and collected her picks. Beside her, Skulker ran diagnostics on his weapons and examined them for any hint of a problem. Neither of the fiery-haired specters spoke to the other. They barely even looked in the other's direction. Having a boyfriend was so aggravating.

For all her adoring fans she'd gained with her music, she'd not dated that much. She wanted recognition, but she'd never bothered with any real emotional connection or junk like that. Why bother? All a guy would do was draw away attention that could be focused on her. Besides, love was nothing but pain.

The human she originated from was Amber McLain. A sweet girl who no one ever noticed, but dreamed of someday playing her guitar for everyone. A chump and a loser, if Ember was honest with herself. One day, one of the most popular boys asked her out to the movie. Amber, who'd had a crush on him for years, instantly agreed and apparently never considered the idea it was a stupid prank. She ignored her parents' rules not to go out at night while they were out of town for the weekend, her excitement growing from both her anticipation of the date and from her act of rebellion. The poor dork showed up early, all dressed up and looking forward to her night out with the boy of her dreams. She waited and waited, hours passing by while the girl refused to give up. Ember hated how stupid the human acted, trying to make excuses that he was just running late when she was clearly ditched by the jerk. Only when dawn arrived did the exhausted and heart-broken girl drag herself home and accept the truth. Too bad about the house fire that Amber was too tired to escape. And so the unnoticed Amber died and the rock star Ember came into existence.

She might not technically be the pushover Amber, but Ember had her memories. So she knew love was a fool's game. It literally made people act like idiots. People will always disappoint you. They'll break your heart if you let them. She would make others love her and adore her, but Ember wouldn't be stupid enough to repeat the human Amber's mistake.

So why was she in a relationship, let alone a relationship with Skulker? She blamed the ghost boy. Phantom stuffed her and Skulker into the thermos one time, but didn't immediately toss them back home. Instead, they were left in there. Of course, they complained about Phantom and started inventing possible revenge schemes. Then they grew competitive about it, trying to out-do each other on creative ways they would attack Phantom once they escaped. That led to comparing past experiences with the ghost boy. Then there was a brief moment where they noticed they both seemed to like the look of the color black and skulls in their wardrobes. She couldn't explain how the conversation evolved from there, but somehow he ended up inviting her back to his lair by the time they got out of the thermos. In the end, it was kind of nice and fun. There was no rational explanation for why she grew to like the dipstick, but Skulker sort of grew on her to the point where considering themselves as a couple only made sense. It was simpler. And in theory, it meant that there was one person who would always adore her and give her the attention she craved.

Of course, Skulker had a way of blowing that theory out of the water. He was obsessed with hunting down Phantom. Granted, their mutual hate for the brat was what first drew them together, but he took it way too far. Almost every conversation they had ended up with him bringing up how the boy would soon be a pelt on Skulker's bed. Ember was tempted to tell the doofus to get a throw blanket and get over it. She really didn't want to be competing for her boyfriend's attention with the halfa he wanted to kill. Skulker was annoying, single-minded, and freaked out if someone questioned his status as the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter. But what really ticked her off was the fact she actually _cared_ about him anyway. The whole dating thing was supposed to just be fun and a way to have someone permanent to hang around with in her spare time. She never meant to do something stupid like actually get attached to the dork. So even if every conversation ended up as a fight and giving one another the silent treatment and she kept considering the idea of breaking it off, Ember couldn't manage to leave Skulker. And that was so frustrating.

As her annoyance with her boyfriend continued to boil below the surface, she noticed the orange jumpsuit-wearing human come stomping back down the stairs. Ember didn't even have to look hard to see that he was absolutely furious with whatever happened up wherever Phantom vanished to. The big guy stalked past where Technus was still wrapped up in his high-tech project, grabbed something off one of the counters, and then marched back up the stairs without ever saying a word.

"I wonder what's up with Dad?" the red-head teen, Jazz, muttered from the corner.

She'd been in that corner for a while, whispering something to the Box Ghost. Why in the world anyone would waste time talking to that chump, the musician ghost would never understand. At least the human was keeping him distracted and quiet.

"Well, if he was anything like Skulker, then I'd say a certain ghost boy once again completely destroyed his reputation as a so-called hunter," said Ember.

"Woman, you try my patience," her boyfriend snarled.

"Definitely setting up an appointment for them later," the human girl mumbled apparently to herself.

"So what exactly are we supposed to do if Ammit isn't going to show up until tomorrow?" Ember asked, ignoring the annoyed look on Skulker's face. "Because I'm going to get bored very quickly if we're just going to float around watching the egg-heads build their doohickey over there."

"Apparently you intend to spend the entire time nagging me," growled the hunter ghost.

"I think it was better when they weren't talking to each other," whispered Poindexter.

Jazz argued, "No, communication is good. Communication is important for a healthy relationship."

"Well, 'communicate' this," smirked Ember. "No matter how you creep around, you couldn't hunt a fluffy bunny with a heat-seeking missile."

"During the last concert you dragged me to, you were off-key through half the second song," he shot back.

"Take that back," she snarled, her fingers twitching to hit the strings of her guitar.

"You first."

"No, you."

"Ladies first."

"You're the biggest chump I've ever had the misfortune to meet. I hope your jetpack drags you back to the library for that stupid gorilla book again."

"I hope your fans suddenly develop a taste for classical music."

"You couldn't track down prey with a GPS and bloodhound."

"There are days I regret letting you crash on my couch that night."

"Trust me, there are days where the feeling is mutual."

Because if he never let her stay at his lair, she never would have decided to date him. And Ember knew that if they'd never started to date, she would never have started to care about dipstick. He infuriated her and yet she couldn't make herself leave. Ember wanted to drive him away at times with her words, but she also didn't want to let him go. She hated him and how he could make her react because she'd done the one thing she'd promised herself she'd never do.

Ember was repeating Amber's mistake by putting her heart on the line. She really did care about the annoying, hunt-obssessive, proud Skulker. And she hated the fact that she cared because she knew better. Guys will always let you down if you let them. Being the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter and finally catching Phantom would always be more important to Skulker than she ever would be, so it was so stupid to care even a smidge for the dipstick. She'd set herself up to be disappointed and hurt by him; Ember understood that perfectly well. It was just a matter of time.

"Forgive me, but I am not seeing any of this 'healthy' relationship you spoke of, Miss Fenton," remarked Dora, glancing between the two ghosts.

"Any relationship that has Skulker in it isn't going to be nice and stable, Princess," Ember said, crossing her arms in front of her. "He can be a real drag."

"And _you're_ just charming and easy to get along with," the hunter said, sarcasm practically dripping off his words.

"Maybe a little silence would be for the best," suggested Jazz.

"Fine by me," the rock star ghost shrugged. "I didn't really feel like talking to any of you anyway."

Before anyone else could respond to her words, something caught Ember's attention out of the corner of her eye. The rest of the merry band of misfits was coming back down the stairs. But not only was Phantom looking properly ghostly instead of still being in his human form, they weren't alone.

"Hey, Skulker, isn't that your old boss?" she asked, pointing.

The others quickly turned their gaze towards the returning group. Standing in between the furious-looking Fentons was a white-haired man that she halfway recalled as being Plasmius's human form. He seemed to be wearing the weird belt thing from earlier and was frowning slightly at the ghosts in the basement. He glanced briefly at Phantom, who looked rather unhappy with the man's presence.

"All right, everyone," the ghostly teen said. "Apparently Vlad's going to be joining in. For the moment, he's stuck playing the part of a good little human, so don't worry about him causing too much trouble."

Skulker smirked, "So the whelp somehow dragged you into this. Or did you volunteer to actually get your hands dirty?"

"He offered to help," Phantom said tensely. "That doesn't mean we can trust him."

"He's a dangerous ally, but he did provide some nice upgrades to my weapon systems as payment for my help in the past," stated the hunter. "But now he's been left without such resources, correct?"

"That's the word around the Ghost Zone," nodded Ember.

"Perfect. Then I have no reason to refrain from hunting him once Ammit has been vanquished."

Rolling her eyes, Ember groaned, "Great. Another halfa to distract you. I doubt you'll be any more successful than you've been against the boy."

"You really can't stop yourself, can you?" muttered Skulker.

"Okay, Ember, remember you were complaining about having nothing to do?" interrupted Jazz. "How about you and your boyfriend baby-sit the former billionaire and make sure he doesn't try to do something towards my parents? Meanwhile, Sidney said he has a few ideas of where to find someone to help out tomorrow, right? Maybe he and Dora can find them. Danny, since we're going to be here a while, why don't you go dig some money out of my purse and grab as much food from the Nasty Burger as you can carry? We can't have Mom and Dad starving as they build something to stop the bad guy, right?"

Nodding thankfully to his sister, Phantom said, "And I guess you're going to be doing what we were talking about earlier?"

"That's the plan. As long as you still say that it's okay," she responded, looking briefly uncertain. "After all, I don't want to make a mess of things since they are your enem—"

"Jazz," the boy interrupted. "It's fine. I wish you the best of luck at helping out however you can."

"Thanks."

The red-head headed towards the stairs, pausing only long enough to give her a brother a slight smile. Ember didn't know whether to be nauseated at the display of sibling bonding or to be mildly jealous of the fact she didn't have someone like that to support and help out in any problem. She decided to go for the first option.

"An interesting collection of your old foes, Daniel," remarked Vlad. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised after what happened with Pariah Dark. I'm surprised that annoying Box Ghost person isn't floating around down here."

"He went upstairs a few minutes ago," Poindexter explained. "Jazz asked him to meet her up there about something."

Ember shrugged, "Whatever. At least he isn't bugging us anymore."

* * *

The Observants were back. They were complaining about how the future they foresaw was still the same, even after the visit from Danny. Clockwork ignored them. He was focusing on the multitude of timelines rather than a singular one.

The point where it could all change was drawing near. Free will could make the difference. Yes, he could guess what those involved would choose, but it was not yet set in stone. The new timeline wouldn't be known to the Observants until the choice was certain. Those involved could be stubborn and even his advice might not be enough to shift their decision. But the ghost had faith. Clockwork knew he'd made the right choice once and the ancient ghost had faith that he would make the right choice once more.

Then, everything shifted. There was no physical change to the universe beyond himself shifting from his adult form to that of an infant. Events continued forward as if nothing happened, but the Observants gasped in shock. Clockwork allowed himself a small smile. He knew he could depend on him to choose right.

"It seems your gamble will have… some type of result," one of the Observants commented.

"The timeline _has_ indeed changed," the second one agreed. "Your words to the boy did have an effect."

"But after your reluctance to kill someone destined to become a monster, it seems most intriguing that you would willingly manipulate events to let what we now see come to pass," the first said slowly. "We have in the past advocated for the occasional necessary death for the greater good, but you have always been more disinclined to follow that path. And yet you put this coming sequence of events into action."

"I am quite aware of what I have set into motion," Clockwork stated, closing his eyes as his shape changed into that of an old man. "It was the best timeline out of many possibilities. Ammit's defeat will not be easy to achieve. Sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to achieve a goal. But they choose to take that risk. They know what their decision could cost them. When the time comes, there will be a choice that will have to be made. And choices always have consequences."

He paid no further attention to the Observants. He knew what they would say, after all. He simply waited for them to leave. He waited for them to leave his home. He waited until there was nothing left except the steady ticking to keep him company. Only then did he open his eyes once more.

No one ever claimed that being the Ghost of Time was easy. It was a lonely, unforgiving duty. Though he rarely interfered with events, there were always consequences for when he did. All choices had a cost. Sometimes good… but often the price was high when he took action. And even offering advice to the young halfa would have consequences.

Alone and with no one to hear his words, Clockwork said softly, "I'm sorry for what you are about to suffer. But everything is as it should be."

* * *

"And so we were wondering if you and maybe a few of your yeti buddies would be willing to come back to Amity Park to help guard the mall when Ammit shows up tomorrow," Tucker concluded.

The icy cave that Frostbite led them to was actually fairly nice. The techno-geek didn't know if it was his home or just a well-furnished rest stop. There was somewhere to sit and huge furry blankets that the humans instantly wrapped themselves in upon arrival. Danielle was also curled up under a blanket and sipping on some hot cocoa that their host somehow possessed. Wulf remained close to the female halfa during the entire explanation, but seemed less inclined to huddle for warmth as the rest.

"A noble cause," Frostbite nodded thoughtfully. "And the Great One's plan may just work."

"Actually, I came up with—" Tucker began to correct before Sam jabbed her elbow into his side.

"That would be great," the black-haired teen smiled. "I know Danny would appreciate the help. And if you can gather however many volunteers you can spare together, Wulf should be able to open a portal when the time comes so you can show up at the exact right place." She paused a moment, glancing at the werewolf ghost for confirmation. When he nodded, Sam added, "We know that this will be a huge risk for all of you, but at least this will give everyone a chance to stop Ammit before he kills everyone."

The yeti ghost nodded, "Indeed. We have all heard the tales of the distant past when the terrible Ammit roamed the Ghost Zone."

"I haven't," interrupted Dani. "When this is all over, think you can tell us some of those stories?"

Chuckling, he said, "Of course, young one. It would be my pleasure to educate you in the folklore of our people and any other tale that catches your interest. There are some stories that all ghosts should know, even half ghosts such as you and the Great One."

"Could you make a list?" Tucker asked. "Because between this, the Ghost King, the Fright Knight, and that Christmas truce thing Danny once mentioned, we really are kept out of the loop until almost too late most of the time."

"Anything to help the friends of the Great One," smiled Frostbite before glancing at Sam. "And, perhaps, his betrothed?"

"Wait, 'betrothed'? We're not betrothed. We're just dating," Sam stammered, gaining a rather amusingly shocked expression. "Who said anything about betrothing? There was no betrothal. He's just my boyfriend."

"I apologize," he said. "I meant no offense. I merely assumed from what I'd observed in the past…"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean to freak me out like that. We've just been dating since the Dis-asteroid thing…" she trailed off. "Why did you think we were betrothed?"

Frostbite blinked, "It merely seemed obvious that the two of you were together. You seemed rather young to be married, so a betrothal seemed logical."

"So yet another ghost who figured out we belonged together before we did," muttered the Goth girl.

Wulf nodded from his position next to Danielle while the female halfa laughed quietly at the scene. Tucker couldn't help himself from making a comment either.

"Dude, I was considering the idea of starting a betting pool at school for when the two of you would start going out."

Groaning as she buried her face in her hands, Sam said, "According to the Box Ghost, the ghosts actually _did_ start betting."

"Aw, man," he complained. "I missed out on that? Who knows how much I could have won from those guys."


	8. More Recruits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: references to Sidney Poindexter's death in this one. And based on what little backstory we have, it was not of natural causes.

For the briefest moment as Jazz climbed the stairs, she felt the tiniest hint of doubt. No matter how many books she'd read, she knew she wasn't a professional psychologist, psychiatrist, or any form of therapist. And there was a difference between trying to help her brother and other teenagers she'd known for years with her knowledge and trying to offer professional-level help to someone in need. There was a reason that the job required a college education. Messing around with someone's mental health wasn't really a task for amateurs.

Then she shoved that doubt away. Yes, she didn't have a degree yet. She'd not even really started any college classes yet. But she wasn't ignorant of the topic. She understood the theory behind her task. All she lacked was practical experience. She could identify and recognize the symptoms of a complex; she'd simply never offered therapy to someone like this.

Of course, this was technically new territory. She knew that ghosts weren't usually lining up for a spot at a psychologist office. And the closest thing to a therapist in the Ghost Zone seemed to be Penelope Spectra and Jazz considered her to be an insult to the profession. There was no precedent for treating a ghost for an Inferiority Complex, so she'd be the one setting the standard for ghost therapy. She'd have to figure out the best way to address issues for a specter versus a human. And her combination of rudimentary knowledge of psychology, her unique insight into ghosts because of her parents and brother, and the mental flexibility of youth meant she could easily be the best choice in pioneering this new branch of therapy.

He was waiting in her room, just as Jazz requested. Though she didn't own as many pairs of shoes as some girls, the small collection of boxes in her closet were now under investigation by her guest. The teenage girl couldn't help wondering which would anger her parents more: the fact she had a guy in her room and was alone with him or the fact he was a _ghost_. While Danny revealing his secret might have opened their minds somewhat about the topic of ghosts, it took a long time to erase years of assumptions and beliefs. So while the rather harmless specter cheerfully inspected anything even remotely cube-shaped in her room, Jazz knew it was only the distraction of current events that kept her parents from popping in with ecto-weapons and the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick.

Trying to keep in mind everything she'd read, she pulled out a notebook and pen. Then, shoving every preconception from her brother's remarks about the Box Ghost out of her head, she sat down on the edge of her bed and smiled at her patient.

"Thank you for joining me, Mr. Box Ghost," she said.

"You said you wanted to hear more about me, but somewhere else so no one could interrupt," he said, confirming her earlier statement as if he couldn't believe someone would ask.

Giving the ghost an encouraging nod, she explained, "I'm honestly curious. If you like, would you tell me about yourself? Later, I might have some questions or remarks. But for now, all I want is for you to tell me whatever you want about yourself."

He stayed still for a moment, floating silently as he stared disbelievingly at her. It was kind of sad to her, the lack of belief at her offer to listen to him. Then he hid that shock behind a look of confidence and excitement.

"Sit back and listen well then," he declared. Jazz quickly wrote down a note about how much his demeanor changed when he began bragging and putting on a show for attention, also recording the shift in vocabulary for later study. The ghost said, "I will share horrifying tales of the ways cardboard can spell your _doom_. If the fear grows too great for you to stand, you are permitted to shriek in utter terror."

Even though she knew from both experience and Danny's stories that the Box Ghost would be loud and would use the words "doom" and "cardboard" numerous times, Jazz paid close attention. It was important to listen not only to what he said, but _how_ he said it. She could direct the conversation later, but now it was better to just let him speak and allow a level of trust to form.

* * *

While part of his mind was on the task of designing a mechanism to produce an explosive wave capable of destabilizing more organized forms of ectoplasm so that it collapses into less specialized forms, the rest of Jack Fenton's thoughts were on the man standing awkwardly in the corner. Wearing a very expensive suit as the two arguing ghosts guarded him, Vlad Masters looked completely out of place in the Fenton basement. Once, Jack would have claimed his home was Vladdy's home. Now, he wished his son didn't insist on keeping the man.

Rather than fade with time, his anger and feelings of betrayal only grew worse since learning the truth. It wasn't just the secrets or being half-ghost. Jack accepted both from his son, even if the ghost thing took a little mental reconfiguring. Neither thing was enough to undo decades of memories of his best friend from college. Jack wasn't that shallow.

But the hatred, the dismissal of that friendship as a lie, the knowledge that Vlad performed untold numbers of acts of violence and manipulation, and the acts towards the various members of the Fenton family shattered the hope Jack had of continuing any friendship with the man. It hurt to learn how much a man he respected and admired truly hated him. It hurt to learn that Vlad wanted his death. The attempts to kill him, to win over Maddie, to turn Danny to his way of thinking… It was too much to forgive and Vlad didn't even seem the least bit remorseful.

…Until now. He and Maddie managed to hear most of the conversation between Danny and Vlad. The man almost sounded sorry for the past. He talked about not deserving forgiveness. Jack agreed on that point. Vlad threw away any hope of a second chance that day just before he failed to turn the asteroid intangible. The man also spoke to Danny of still caring. He claimed to still care about Maddie. To care about Danny, Jazz, and Danielle. To even care about Jack. But it wasn't enough.

After all his venomous words and death attempts, even those declarations weren't enough to subdue the fury and hurt. After learning how decades of friendship, no matter how distant and strained at times, was built on lies and loathing, Jack couldn't bring himself to trust a word out of Vlad's mouth. At the moment, he trusted his son's ghostly enemies more than the currently-contained halfa in the basement. At least the ghosts were upfront and honest about their intentions rather than pretending to be buddies.

Erasing a crooked line on the schematic, Jack couldn't help wondering if the accident sparked the man's hatred or if Vlad despised him from the start. Was every single memory he had of the three of them during college actually concealing complete loathing? Did he barely tolerate Jack's presence before the accident merely to spend time with Maddie? Jack never even noticed Vlad's interest in her at the time. In fact, until Danny explained all of Vlad's past actions and Maddie admitted some of the man's uncomfortable attention in more recent times, Jack still wouldn't have known the extent of his obsession with her. Was the entire friendship a lie from the beginning rather than only turning sour upon the original portal accident and the later marriage? Or was there a point where everything could have been salvaged? Was the friendship between the three ghost enthusiasts doomed from the start, destined to end in betrayal and anger? Or could it have been saved if someone took action?

Deep thoughts about life and the possibilities of what could have been weren't part of Jack's normal state of being. While he might worry about the well-being of his family, most of his concerns were more immediate and surface issues. He'd rather think about fudge and getting excited about a new invention with his face on it rather than philosophical concepts and the secrets of the universe. And of course, he thought about ghost hunting. In school, he always did fairly well, though he was easily distracted and bored by the material. His grades weren't the best, but they were reasonably good. But in college, he found what he truly excelled at. Anything related to ghosts came naturally to him. Every invention might not be flawless, but it was still a topic he understood easier and more completely than any other. He didn't have to think hard about it. But when it came to Vlad's actions, he couldn't _stop_ thinking about it.

What if Vlad married Maddie back then? Jack wouldn't trade his family and his life with them for the world, but he couldn't help wondering what would have happened if Vlad got what he'd apparently desired from the start. Would it have made Vlad happy? Would Maddie, even if she picked Jack in reality, have been happy with that life? Would all of them be friends still or would Jack become the bitter one who pined after a married woman while hating the man she loved? If the circumstances were reversed, would they have changed things or would their friendship still end in betrayal?

Shaking his head, Jack dragged his thoughts back to the present. Dwelling on the past and what could have been was part of the reason why Vlad became so angry and bitter. It would be wiser to live in the moment and focus on what could be changed rather than what was beyond their control. He, Maddie, and Technus had work to do. And Vlad would be helping against Ammit. He couldn't change or deny that fact. So he would have to put aside his feelings and deal with the reality of the situation. That didn't mean he had to be happy about it. And it didn't mean he had to trust anything Vlad said.

* * *

Out of all the things he'd imagined doing once the world knew his secret, flying through the drive-thru of the Nasty Burger wasn't one of them.

He understood that this errand was mostly a ploy by Jazz to get him away from Vlad and let him cool off. And he definitely appreciated the fact. On the other hand, food was something that would be required if they wanted to keep working on preparations. So this served as a sort of "two birds, one stone" situation.

Danny didn't know if it was due to how quickly Amity Park adapted to the truth of the halfa, the regularity that weird things happened to the population, or the sheer indifference to the surroundings that seemed to be a job requirement for the late shift of the establishment, but the teenager running the place that night didn't even react as the famous ghost boy floated next to the menus while ordering about a dozen Nasty Burgers, fries, and a salad (for Sam when she returned). All the guy did was boredly take the order and tell him to fly around to the window, please.

As Danny prepared to follow the apathy-filled words, a familiar voice interrupted.

"I don't work here anymore, but I might be able to talk Louis into giving you a discount."

Once, her voice would have been a warning of an incoming attack. Now he wasn't certain what to expect. He turned to see Valerie Gray, perched on her hover board and wearing her battle suit, staring back at him. There was something about the Red Huntress watching him from the darkness that made him uncomfortable. Past animosity from her towards his ghost half and being the ex-girlfriend to his human half combined into a lot of awkwardness. They hadn't really talked since the secret came out and this was part of the reason why.

"Thanks, but you don't have to," he said, hoping as soon as the words left his mouth that Clockwork's advice concerning help didn't include that particular offer. After a moment of uneasy silence, he suggested, "If you want to help carry these home, I wouldn't mind though."

Smiling briefly, Valerie said, "Sure thing, Danny."

The pair flew around the building where the pimply Louis waited with the order. The complete lack of interest from the teenager continued as he piled the greasy bags onto Valerie's hover board without so much as a blink. Danny got the feeling that if the Lunch Lady ever attacked the place, Louis would likely just grab a mop without ever changing his expression. He halfway wondered if he was a robot or something.

After the last of the food was loaded into place and the bored Nasty Burger employee was paid, the two teenagers flew away from prying eyes. The two most famous and successful ghost hunters might attract attention, even at that late hour. It was probably lucky that the restaurant was deserted other than the Indifference King, Louis. Otherwise there'd be at least seven photos on the internet showing the food run.

"Jazz called me earlier," remarked Valerie as they soared over rooftops, keeping slow to prevent the food from falling. "She said there was a ghost situation. And my equipment agrees with her that they're all over the place. But the first ghost I've seen all night is you." She briefly grimaced at her words, her expression visible through the faceplate. "You know what I mean. None of them are causing trouble tonight."

Trying to ignore the awkwardness and discomfort coming from the girl, Danny explained, "They're hiding. They _really_ don't want to be thrown back into the Ghost Zone right now. There's—"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted abruptly. As he stared at her in surprise at the outburst, he saw Valerie appeared equally shocked at her own words. There was a flash of concern, then her face adopted a familiar look of stubborn determination. "I don't know if I ever said it out-loud to you, but I _am_ sorry. You tried to talk sense into me so many times and I just never listened or gave you a chance. I blindly accepted gifts from strangers, never questioning if the battle suit was provided with an ulterior motive. I thought that losing money and popularity made me grow from being just another shallow popular student, but I ended up just as narrow-minded and oblivious as before. I treated you badly when you apparently just wanted to help. I made your life harder than it had to be. I couldn't see that Phantom was just as nice as Fenton and not the heartless monster I assumed ruined my life on purpose. I was wrong on so many things and I'm sorry for everything I've done to you."

Danny stared at her silently for the entire apology. Then, glancing around, he perched himself on the edge of a chimney. He really didn't want to have this conversation while floating in midair. The food might get a little cold, but the really needed to deal with this issue. Especially if they wanted to fight together in the near future.

"We never really talked about everything, did we?"

"No. And no matter how much simpler it would be, we can't ignore each other forever," she said, steering the board so she was eye level with him.

Sighing to himself, he took the plunge. "Remember how this all started? Me and a ghost dog kind of crashed into Axion and your dad ended up fired. It was an accident and I'm really sorry, but I could understand why you would hate ghosts after that since it pretty much ruined all parts of your life. Though technically it was Axion's fault."

"How?"

"The place had guard dogs originally, right? They got rid of them when they got the new security system? Well, I figured out why Cujo was causing all that chaos and dragging me along for the ride. He went to Axion because it was familiar to him. He was just trying to go home and get his squeaky toy."

It only took a moment for Valerie to make the connection. He could see the instant that realization dawn on her, horror and pity dancing across her face. Then there was a flash of anger that made Danny worry that those who made the decision concerning Cujo's fate would soon be having a visit from Huntress. She then regained a more neutral look.

Continuing, Danny explained, "After that, you simply assumed the worst when it came to me. The first misunderstanding made it easier for you to think ghosts in general and me specifically were the enemy. I mean, I personally would have preferred you _not_ to shoot at me, but it wasn't that bad. Compared to listening to my parents discuss how many ways they wanted to destroy me for science, it barely fazed me. I understand why you acted the way you did, even when it was frustrating or dangerous. Just try to keep an open-mind and listen to people in the future. It'll make things simpler. And in case you're still worried, I forgave you a long time ago."

She smiled at his words, looking as if a weight had lifted off her. Then she reached out a hand.

"Well, I'd still like to start this whole thing over," she said. "Hi, I'm the Red Huntress. My friends call me Valerie Gray."

Accepting the offered hand and the implied renewal of friendship, he replied, "I think I've seen you flying around somewhere. I'm Danny Phantom and Danny Fenton. I'm also half ghost, but still a pretty nice person anyway."

"I think I can deal with that," Valerie said, shaking his hand once before releasing her grip. 'If people can be good or evil, I guess I should accept ghosts are the same. Though I've seen more evil ones than good."

"The troublemakers attract more attention," he shrugged, hopping off his perch. "Remind me to introduce you to Frostbite and his people sometime. He's one of the nicer ghosts I've met."

"I'll hold you to that," said the girl, setting her board back into motion. "So, you want to tell me what's up with the ghosts tonight? What are we facing and how can I help, Danny?"

"Well, that depends. Can you work alongside some ghosts? Not just me. Several of the less friendly sort. They agreed to help out of self-interest rather than to be nice, but they _are_ working with us. Can you handle that?"

She was silent for several seconds as they flew slowly. She didn't look happy with the idea, her troubled expression clear through the faceplate. He knew this was a lot to ask from her. All their past instances of teamwork, united with a common goal, made him feel like getting her cooperation was like pulling teeth. Valerie was a stubborn, strong-willed, determined girl. The only question was if her stubborn hatred of ghosts would win out or if her determination to change and adapt would.

"I'll deal with it," she said through gritted teeth. "So start talking. What's going on?"

Nodding with satisfaction, Danny asked, "Have you ever heard of someone called 'Ammit'?"

* * *

The world wasn't fair. Nor was it kind. Anyone who was weaker or different understood that. And Sidney Poindexter was both. Those with any form of power held the potential to change and affect the world, but too many chose to use it against those with no defense. Those who were harmless would often suffer, struggling under the heartless choices by the strong. Those who used their power, regardless of whether it was physical strength, intelligence, popularity, influence, strength in numbers, jobs, or knowledge, in order to hurt others for no good reason were simply bullies. They were cruel and inescapable. He understood that all too well.

The human Sidney Poindexter faced bullies his entire life. He was the weakest target. He didn't fit in. He didn't have friends or even siblings to depend on. His parents didn't care or notice what was happening beyond telling him to "toughen up." He was tormented, mocked, ridiculed, and treated as less than a person on a daily basis. The teachers either ignored or even laughed at what happened to him. It became a school-wide tradition to make him suffer another indignity. They saw him as a game instead of a real person with feelings. He was the boy other bully-victims would target. He grew more used to opening his locker from the inside than the outside because of how often he was stuffed in the thing. After yet another day of torment and with no hope of it ever changing, the human Sidney Poindexter gave up. After the final bell of the day (and after escaping his locker a final time), the sixteen year old borrowed a rope from the janitor's closet and tried to end the suffering.

Unfortunately, the human Sidney Poindexter was rather strong-willed (which was why he lasted as long as he had as the school punching bag). In addition, the boy was experiencing strong feelings of frustration, loneliness, hopelessness, misery, anger, and desperation. With his demise, a fairly powerful echo reached the Ghost Zone. A copy of the entire school and its population was created along with a ghost of the boy himself. By ending his life to escape only two more years of school, the human condemned his ghostly counterpart to fifty years of non-stop bullying. Sidney couldn't really blame the human; he had the memories of how miserable the boy was when he ended it. Still, Sidney wished the human teenager made a different choice. Life would have improved with time. High school didn't last forever… unless you were a ghost stuck in a copy of Casper High School thanks to the death of a bullied boy.

Sidney still identified strongly with the human he was based on. Not all ghosts were like that, however. Granted, some weren't based at all on a specific person, but even those with origins from human death weren't always very concerned with that human's past. After all, they weren't technically the same person as the human. They were an echo, a ghostly copy of the deceased. Even the similar appearance, personality, and memories weren't always enough to make the specter care. They weren't human and the Ghost Zone wasn't some form of official afterlife, so some ghosts didn't worry about their connection to a specific member of humanity. How much a ghost identified with the human they originated from varied between individuals. Sidney identified closely with the human Sidney, his existence following the exact same pattern of torment until Danny changed things. The ghost he was looking for was similar; she strongly identified with the former role of her human's life.

The darkness helping to prevent complicating from eyewitnesses, Sidney led Dora down the deserted halls of Casper High School. He was still intrigued by the similarities and differences between the real building and the unchanging version in the Ghost Zone. His companion studied the posters and projects displayed on the walls.

"So this was where…?" she asked cautiously.

"Where I came from?" he smiled nervously. "That's right. I could even show you the locker I spent most of my sophomore year stuck in."

"That's awful," she frowned, making him thankful that his monochromatic face was harder to see a blush on.

Dora didn't belong here. Sidney couldn't help think she would never fit in with the school population. No matter how pretty or sharp the girls might look in their poodle skirts and sweaters, she looked even better with her braided blond hair and long blue dress. She was also really nice, which was a rare quality for him to find. She was the sort of sweet dolly that he'd never hoped to meet. He couldn't see how Dora could spend centuries being bullied by her brother. She was unreal how amazing she was and she even had powers that weren't limited to a location.

He really liked her. Honestly, he was already real gone when it came to Dora. In the time period of the human Sidney, any boy who saw her would offer his letterman jacket and ask her to share an egg cream. In the time period of the human Dorathea, she would give her chosen knight a favor to wear with pride and would be courted by the finest men in the kingdom. Neither option really helped him with his current problem of liking a girl who was so wonderful. She simply didn't belong at that school or with someone was just an odd ball nerd with peepers like him.

"It isn't so bad here," answered the black-and-white ghost. "I might not be able to turn into a dragon, but I can still pull off some wild tricks on school grounds. Watch."

Anywhere else, he was limited to the classic invisibility and intangibility. Compared to other ghosts, he was as pathetic and harmless as the human teenager was to his bullies. But within the limits of Casper High School, the bullies were not the only ones with power. Anywhere that was part of the school grounds was his territory. While considerably more benevolent than most poltergeists, Sidney could control objects within his area of influence.

Reaching out a hand, he sent his power to the closest locker. The combination spun frantically around before the lock disengaged. The door whipped open, waved back and forth like a flag, and then slammed shut hard enough for the clang to echo multiple times. While she jumped briefly at the loud noise, Dora seemed mildly impressed by the display of telekinesis. It made him smile.

"And you can perform such feats here because his location was of significance in your mortal life?" she asked.

"Yep," said Sidney. "It was here the human was the most miserable and where he died, so I'm kind of bound to the place. Though it isn't as bad now. Phantom made the difference. Turns out that I was only stuck in the Ghost Zone version of the school as long as everything remained the same. Once he helped me get a little respect from the guys by letting them see me fight the halfa, I could suddenly leave the place and move around the rest of the Ghost Zone. And eventually meet you."

"I see," she nodded thoughtfully. "And this school is important to the ghost we seek as well?"

"I know she's familiar with it. She's haunted the place before and she was here a long time ago. It's probably the closest thing to a home she has in the Human Realm. If she's afraid and looking to hide, she'll go somewhere she knows. She'll go somewhere she feels safe and secure. So she'll probably be here. She a bit of a character, though. So be careful in case she wigs out."

"Would you dears like a snack?" a sweet and kind voice asked as a figure floated out of the floor, drawn out by the noise of the locker as Sidney predicted.

The ghost had green skin like Dora, but appeared physically older (though age was difficult to guess with specters). A pink hairnet rested on her head and an apron was wrapped around her body. On her hands was a pair of yellow gloves. From her harmless appearance to her sweet-sounding voice, she gave the impression of being nothing more than a normal lunch lady for the school. Of course, that would require ignoring the fact she was a ghost. But she was once a lunch lady for Casper High School and she was still called the Lunch Lady. That was why Sidney knew where to find her.

"No, thank you, ma'am," replied Dora before he could stop her.

Her demeanor instantly switching to from friendly to enraged, the ghost shouted, "Then I'll serve you a large helping of destruction and doom!"

Not knowing what else to do, Sidney quickly placed himself between the angry specter and Dora. Realizing she would soon summon the contents of the cafeteria to her position, he took a leap of faith.

"Beverly, please stop this."

The Lunch Lady stiffened at his words, all hints of her hair-trigger temper vanishing. She stared at him in shock.

"What did you call me?" she asked, her voice soft and closer to being kindly again.

"Beverly. That was the human woman's name. Beverly Jacobson. Your younger brother, Brian, went to school with me. Sidney Poindexter? He once tied me up to the flagpole and attached a sign to me with the word 'nerd' on it," he explained. "I saw you once at a distance when I was just a little ankle-biter. You used to babysit Brian when he was younger and take him to the park. You've changed a bit since then, but I know who you are."

Still looking stunned, she muttered, "That's right. I remember. Brian mentioned you a couple of times. What a pleasant surprise to see you again, dearie."

"I wish the circumstances were less grave, Ms. Jacobson," said Dora, coming out from behind the monochromatic ghost.

"Please, call me Lunch Lady," she said. "Everyone else does. Or I suppose Beverly would be fine. There's no need to be so formal."

"Very well, Ms. Lunch Lady," the blond specter continued. "Tomorrow, Ammit will arrive in this town. Phantom has a plan that should stop him permanently, but he requires assistance to make it work. They must be given enough time to prepare. He needs help keeping Ammit at bay and keeping the humans safe. Will you help us guard the school tomorrow when the time comes?"

"I've only ever wanted the best for the children at the school. I want to keep them well fed so they can grow strong and happy," remarked the Lunch Lady. "Perhaps I occasionally let my temper get the best of me when the food isn't right for them, but I wouldn't want something horrible to happen to the poor dears. Of course I'll help keep the students safe. No one will ever interfere with the well-being of the students of this school, whether it be from malnutrition or Ammit."

Smiling at Dora, Sidney said, "Looks like this was an easy gig after all."

"Thank you, Ms. Lunch Lady," she said before returning her attention properly to her companion. "I believe we should return to the Fenton household with the good news."

"Sure thing," he nodded.

* * *

Pamela Manson would be the first to admit that their daughter wasn't exactly what she and Jeremy expected. They had hoped for a sweet, demure, and feminine girl that they could spoil rotten with dresses and other pretty things. Instead, their little Sammy-kins refused to fit that expectation at every turn. Rather than any cheery and bright colors, she surrounded herself with dark and gloomy ones. Instead of beautiful romance, she preferred horror. The music she played was loud and obnoxious, she fought against fitting in with other girls, and she'd rather talk about creepy things than the latest fashions. It was enough to drive a mother mad.

Then there was the fact she spent all her time pretending not to come from a financially-successful home and associating with the Foley and Fenton boys. Now, Tucker wasn't so bad. He was a little odd at times, but Danny was always the one Pam was concerned about. His parents were so strange. Their obsession with ghosts couldn't make a good and wholesome environment for the boy to grow in, so he would undoubtedly end up as odd as his parents. Of course when ghosts turned out to be real, Pam couldn't complain as much about the Fentons. Still, she was certain that the boy was a bad influence on her Sammy-kins. All that ghost nonsense was bound to encourage all her darker and dreary preferences and Pam still held out hope that her daughter might someday blossom into the beautiful flower she knew Sam to be.

She couldn't argue too strongly against her spending time with the Fenton boy, though. Sam would rebel against her parents' desires, so anything discouraged would be instantly embraced. It was wiser to merely encourage the less objectionable aspects of her daughter's interests rather than overly criticize the ones Pam disliked. Just like she supported the environmental activist behavior since she preferred it to the Gothic behavior. If Sam ever made a friend or dated someone that was a better influence, Pam intended to do all in her power to encourage her daughter to associate more with the new person than her old friends.

In the end, she did turn out to be right with her assumptions that Danny's parents would ruin any chance the boy would have of being a normal and productive member of society. Granted, he did help save the world, but he was still even more tangled up with ghost things than his parents. And when he revealed the truth to the world, Pam also had to learn that her Sammy-kins was now dating him (of course, she'd been afraid that would happen for months). Any hope of having a sweet, cheerful daughter with more mainstream tastes was now dashed. All she could do was grin and bear it. And pretend her daughter wasn't dating a half-ghost boy and undoubtedly still running around all hours of the night with him and the Foley boy.

That suspicion about her daughter's activities was why she was out of bed at this hour. Wrapped up in a pink and fuzzy bathrobe, Pam quietly slipped out of the room. Jeremy didn't even stir as she left. The (dyed) red-haired woman moved gracefully down the halls towards her dear Sammy-kins's room. She didn't know why, but she suspected that her daughter wasn't in her bed. There was a warning about ghosts that evening and Sam didn't ask to go out. That wasn't normal for her. Of course, Pam would have tried to stop her if she asked permission, but that wasn't the point. The girl would have wanted to go. So the woman knew her precious child must have snuck out, either to help the Fenton boy with the ghost problem or perhaps just to see Danny. And she would not tolerate Sam being out at this hour.

Hoping there wouldn't be a loud creak with her actions, Pam opened the door slightly to her daughter's room. While there was plenty of that dark and depressing stuff Sammy-kins liked inside, her focus was solely on the bed. Her back was to the door, but the woman could see the black hair on the pillow and a blanket-wrapped body curled up on the mattress. Pam sighed in relief. She was wrong. Her daughter wasn't running around in the middle of the night, doing who knows what with that Fenton boy. She was safe and sound asleep, behaving just like a good girl should. Maybe things were turning around for her rebellious daughter.

Smiling to herself, Pam quietly closed the door and returned to her room.

* * *

Once she was certain the door was closed, Grandma Manson slipped the wig off her head and grinned to herself. Her son and daughter-in-law could be so restricted of Sam. Granted, sneaking out and staying gone all night weren't the wisest decisions the girl ever made, but she'd at least told her grandmother what she was doing and asked her to help. And this was hero stuff. It was nice that the girl was trying to take on some responsibilities. If she'd followed her parents' plans for her, she'd probably end up as a bubble-brained blond who didn't understand anything about the world and just threw money blindly at a problem. Sam was a bit of a rebel, but she also had a good heart. So her grandmother had no issue with helping out when she could.

Besides, that Danny seemed like such a nice boy. He'd keep her out of trouble. The older woman couldn't help chuckling at what Pamela and Jeremy would do if they ended up having to attend a wedding someday with the Fentons. She was determined to live to a hundred if it meant being able to see the expressions on their faces upon learning they would be the in-laws to the half-ghost boy. It would be worth ever cent of the family fortune.

* * *

Angela and Maurice Foley were certain that there was no chapter in a parenting guide book that described how to handle raising a teenage mayor. They tried to treat him like any other child, making him do his homework and keep a curfew. Unfortunately, that didn't always work out properly.

First that evening, his assistant called to say he would be over at Danny's. Later on, when it drew near the hour he should have returned, he sent a text claiming a mild emergency had sprung up and he would be busy for quite some time with his "mayor and best friend duties." The only consolation was that he claimed that the Fentons would be supervising things and he's probably sleep over at Danny's house until it was straightened out. Considering the possible emergencies that could arise concerning both his role as mayor and as Danny's friend, his parents were highly concerned about what he might be tangled up in. But what could they do? They were completely in over their heads.

Maybe it was a good thing Tucker was an only child. Neither of them wanted to imagine how many more sleepless nights they'd endure if he happened to have a sibling. One Tucker was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a quick check-in with Sam and Tucker's families. I thought it would at least be nice to acknowledge the fact someone would realize they're still gone at a late hour. Jazz has begun her attempts at therapy for the Box Ghost. I wish her all the best of luck with that. And there was finally a conversation between Valerie and Danny. Both have come to terms with what's happened and their past actions. They needed to have this chat and make sure they know that all is forgiven. That way, they'll have an easier time fighting on the same team in the future. 
> 
> In regards to the Lunch Lady knowing Sidney Poindexter, it isn't completely farfetched. She worked at the high school at some point. Figuring out when she did it was a little of a challenge. If I recalled correctly, she made a comment about the school menu being the same for fifty years, so she would have either worked or attended the school probably around the fifty year mark… which would place her in Casper High School at nearly the same time as Poindexter. I decided to have her a few grades ahead of him so that she wouldn't really have interacted with him and wouldn't necessarily remember him much. Sometime after graduating, she returned to work as a lunch lady at Casper High School and eventually died before Danny started going to school there. And of course, she would have had a name.


	9. Potential

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a trained therapist. Of course, neither is Jazz technically. We're both doing the best we can with this. If you need psychological help, please consult a professional rather than a fanfiction.

The Box Ghost realized nervously that he was never allowed to brag this long without interruption. By now his audience would have usually left or attacked him. Or at least threatened violence. No one ever sat there patiently, listening carefully to every word and simply acting like they cared about what he was saying. The girl, Jazz, was actually smiling occasionally and writing down stuff as she served as a willing audience to his rambling.

And yes, it definitely qualified as rambling by now. He was stammering, repeating himself, and losing focus on his previous bragging and boasting. He was running out of things to say. He'd never needed to talk this long about himself, so he didn't know what to do by this point. He usually stopped when someone snapped at him, but Jazz never did. She just listened to him like he was the most important person in the house. And… he knew he wasn't.

He trailed off into silence, the undivided attention finally leaving him at a loss. The red-haired teen looked at him with a far-too-understanding smile. Somehow it made her look like she was capable of reading minds and that was an even more intimidating thought than facing an angry Phantom.

"That was all very impressive, Mr. Box Ghost," she said. "I do have a few questions. You don't have to answer if they make you uncomfortable, but it would be helpful. Is that all right with you?"

With a little hesitation, he nodded.

"Now, between my parents and Danny, I understand that ghosts aren't really the souls of dead people lingering around and moaning about things. That's more of a scary movie idea. But I also understand that some ghosts are based on people. And that those ghosts can have the memories of those people. Is that true?"

Again, he nodded. It was a little interesting what humans were still trying to figure out about them that most ghosts would consider to be common knowledge.

"So I guess my first real question would be if you're based on a human and if so, do you have his memories?"

The Box Ghost's gaze dropped to one of the shoe boxes he'd been investigating earlier. It was sort of a personal question for most ghosts. Some really liked the idea of the human that sparked their creation, accepting memories of a life they never lived quite easily. Others preferred to ignore their origins. Because of the vast difference in opinions, it was generally easier and smarter not to even ask about that.

But she didn't know that and she was so nice. She was honestly curious about him and the question didn't really bother him. He just didn't like the fact that the few fragments he did know about the human that caused his existence seemed so… dull. Mundane. Worthless.

"I do have a couple of memories of a human life," he admitted quietly. "He seemed like a nice person, I guess. I don't really know much about him." He shrugged, "He moved boxes and crates."

"Did he have a name?" she asked gently.

The Box Ghost thought carefully. He knew the human wouldn't be called "the Box Human" or anything like that. He would have had a more normal-sounding name. And that bland, forgettable, ignorable identity was something he'd always avoided. Someone called " _The Box Ghost_ " would always be more awe-inspiring and terrifying than someone with a name that was boring. And he needed to stand out. He needed to be noticed. Otherwise…

"Mr. Box Ghost?" the teenage girl prompted, an encouraging and patient smile directed right at him.

"I think his name was Hank," he said finally. "Maybe Harold? No, Hank sounds right. He was taking some sort of night classes to get his high school diploma, but not because he didn't like his job. I mean, it sounds like the _greatest_ job in the world to me. He worked with boxes all day."

"So he found satisfaction with his job," said Jazz as she scribbled a note down.

He frowned a moment, "Mostly. I mean, he wasn't very well-liked by his fellow employees. They said he took his job too seriously. But why wouldn't you take the great and terrible power of boxes serious? If you aren't careful, horrible things can happen. Never underestimate the power contained in their cube shapes."

"I certainly take that potential seriously," Jazz stated, the lack of sarcasm or dismissal in her voice surprising the ghost. "So no one ever gave Hank recognition or approval for his dedication to his work. Perhaps that's why he sought academic achievement. If he was truly happy with his job, he wouldn't use higher education to get a different one. So his reasons for wanting his high school diploma would be more personal rather than financial. He wanted to prove himself. To have some form of reliable and tangible proof of his worth as an individual."

Floating a little closer to the ground, the Box Ghost tilted his head curiously, "How did you think of all that from what I said?"

"I've studied the psychology of people," she answered simply. "Figuring out why they do things and how they think is part of what I do."

"Okay, but _why_ do you want to know about him? He's not interesting," he asked, edging a little closer to the teen just in case proximity would help hold her attention.

Glancing up from where she was writing in her notebook, Jazz explained, "You have his memories. Even if you don't identify yourself as 'Hank' and he's technically a different person than you, the fact you have at least a few of his memories means he plays a part in your identity."

"Uh, run that by me again, please?"

"We are often the result of our past experiences. Our reactions and choices are influenced by what happened before. Memories of past failures warn us about future decisions. Memories of past victories provide confidence for future endeavors. The past helps shape us, even if we are capable of exceeding what we once were. And since you have Hank's memories, they influence who you are today. They may not define you and you may not notice their effect on your existence, but I'm not going to ignore anything that could be a factor."

"A factor in what?" he asked.

She smiled, "A factor in the unrealized potential I highly-suspect you have, Mr. Box Ghost."

It was too much. The red-haired girl's behavior was too much for him to handle comfortably. There was no glares, eye-rolls, insults, mocking laughter, cold shoulders, scoffing, or snide comments. Nor was she blindly panicking or screaming. She was just calm, attentive, honestly curious and interested, and apparently intrigued by the ghost. It didn't make sense. He'd even dropped his usual dramatic speech pattern and she _still_ acted more impressed by him than anyone else he'd ever met. While the Box Ghost _wanted_ this sort of thing, it didn't actually _make sense_ for him to receive such attention. He knew the truth. And faced with her honest curiosity and attention, he couldn't keep up the façade.

"But I don't," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" said the girl, raising an eyebrow.

"I… _don't_ have potential," he said slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I know what the other ghosts say. What your brother, Phantom, says. I'm not a threat to anyone. I'm not scary or powerful. Compared to the others, control over boxes is pathetic." The blue-tinted specter knew his voice was rising in volume, but he couldn't bring himself to care as every thought he tried to ignore in the past came spilling out. "I'm one of the weakest, most useless, worthless specters in the Ghost Zone. I'm a joke. I can't even scare a crowd of humans if I try. No one takes me serious and I don't blame them."

He couldn't meet the girl's eyes, but he knew that she must realize by now how false his previous bragging was and all that unwarranted admiration from before would vanish. Just like he deserved.

"Phantom doesn't even bother chasing me down anymore, his girlfriend shouts threats at me instead of trembling in fear, and I'll bet none of your family would be worried about you facing me alone in a fight. I can't do anything right. I'm just… the Box Ghost. The worst ghost ever. I'm surprised no one wants to use me as bait against Ammit. That's all I'm good for."

The uncomfortably-honest admittance of what he'd spent so long denying was abruptly halted as a pillow smacked into his face. The unexpected (and soft) interruption left the ghost sputtering and flailing until he managed to toss the projectile aside. He found the teenage girl staring at him with an impossible mixture of scolding, determination, and sheepishness.

"Sorry, that wasn't exactly the most mature or professional method of handling the situation," Jazz apologized. "But I'm not going to allow you to talk about yourself like that. That's quitter talk and there are no quitters on Team Phantom. Furthermore, I don't believe that you are pathetic, worthless, or anything else you just said. It doesn't matter what anyone else says or what you mistakenly think, but I can certainly see your potential. I know what you're capable of. You just have to realize how much you can actually accomplish."

There was something about the red-haired teenager, now standing and pointing at him sharply, that kept the Box Ghost silent. He was beginning to understand her a little better now. Her all-too-knowing gaze could see through any shouting or bragging, but she didn't seem disappointed by what she found. Even with his admittance of uselessness, she believed in him. That confidence and approval of him, however undeserving, was kind of nice. Somewhere, her attitude went from merely curious to forceful pep talk. Jazz was certainly friendlier and less violent than her brother, but something deep down warned the specter that she shouldn't be underestimated.

"If you don't think you're scary, who cares?" she continued. "Danny isn't a scary ghost who terrifies the public on a regular basis, but the other ghosts and humans respect him and his capabilities. You don't see that Clockwork person popping up at the park to spook people, but he's still considered powerful, right? If you aren't getting the results you want by trying to be scary, try something else. As for your powers, I think you can definitely be dangerous with your mastery of boxes."

"Yeah, but I'm not allowed to borrow Pandora's Box anymore," he said.

"Not that. And not by spreading fattening sandwiches and ill-fitting shoes," she corrected. "Of course, those are examples of why I think your heart isn't truly into being aggressive or evil, but that's an issue for another day. In regards to your powers and your potential, I believe there is an easy way to demonstrate your versatility. And sometimes versatility is of greater use than raw firepower."

"How?" he asked slowly, frowning in suspicion.

"Let me ask you a question," she smiled, standing up and walking towards her closet. "From what you said before, you can control any box and its contents. Correct?"

He nodded. His powers were rather straight forward. He could manipulate any boxes he found. He could also do the same thing to objects inside of boxes. Like bubble wrap.

"Good," she nodded. "Define a box."

"What?"

"Tell me exactly what makes a box what it is. How do you describe one?"

"Uh… is this a trick?"

Jazz shrugged, "You're the Box Ghost. You should be able to explain what a box is, right?"

"Well, a box is a square—"

"Nope," she interrupted, tossing something out of her closet He caught it, frowning at the roundish object as she continued, "Hat boxes are short cylinders. Try again."

Setting the hat box down, he considered his words more carefully.

"A box is a cardboard—"

"Wrong again," the girl said, tossing a pink, metal object out of the closet. There was a picture of a unicorn on the side. "Lunch boxes can be metal or plastic. And I know you've used them before. Try again."

Frowning at her in annoyance at the corrections to the one topic he considered himself an expert on, he stated, "A box has a lid and—"

"You're not even trying now," interrupted Jazz yet again. "The ordinary cardboard box has flaps, not a lid." She stepped back out of the closet and crossed her arms. "Again. And try to get it right."

"How _dare_ you mock my expertise in this field of knowledge? Do you have _any_ idea who I am?" he shouted, falling back on his traditional method of handling a problem. " _I_ am the Box Ghost. _No_ one knows more about them than I do."

"Prove it," she said calmly, not even batting an eye at his reaction.

"A _box_ ," he stated slowly and firmly, "is a _container_ that—"

"Exactly," interrupted the girl, looking extremely smug. "A box is a container. That's it. As long as you keep that definition in mind, you'll be able to consider a lot of things as boxes that many people wouldn't automatically think of. You just have to be creative." Walking around the room, she asked, "Crates are basically large, wooden boxes, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So those giant, metal shipping containers and small, mail boxes would also count as boxes. They're just different containers. What about an egg?"

"An egg?"

"Yes, an egg. Most people wouldn't think of them as a box, but they are technically a container. The shell is meant to serve as a container for the yolk. A little creative thinking and you can expand your definition to include a lot of surprising things."

He stared at her, "You think my potential should be used for eggs?"

"Okay, not the greatest example. I was thinking of a weird riddle from a fantasy book. Sorry, but just work with me a little. Semi-trucks are large, mobile containers. A safe is pretty much a lockable box. A prison is a way to contain criminals. Libraries are containers for books. Think about it. Buildings are essentially giant boxes."

Her words… they were perfectly clear and her logic made sense when she spelled it out like that. Most of the objects were containers, in one way or another. Many of them were even cubes. From her explanations, it was so easy to see them as boxes, though not conventional ones. And that thought terrified him. It was as if Jazz handed him more power than he could ever imagine using only her words. Focusing on only the most basic definition of a box opened millions of possibilities. So many options… He could control a lot of different objects if he metaphorically thought outside the box. It was like his entire world-view was shifted around. His past boasts about how the world should beware his might control over boxes were finally true. And he thought Pandora's Box was shocking to handle.

The change caused merely by her calm examination of his capabilities and powers left him nervous and uncertain. He didn't even know for certain if he would be able to do what she was actually suggesting. It was all theoretical at this moment. But that fact did little to make it less overwhelmingly intimidating. Considering how easy it was for the teenage girl to devise so many possibilities so quickly, the Box Ghost honestly wondered if Danny Phantom was truly the most dangerous member of the family. The Ghost Zone should be relieved that it wasn't Jazz who possessed ghost powers.

"And then you have to consider the objects _in_ the boxes. That's where you can get some real versatility," she continued. "Go to almost any store and the merchandise will be in boxes. Computers, toys, food, power tools… They'll be in boxes, so you can control them. Or go to a gun store and you could find things like weaponry in cardboard boxes, shipping crates, and glass cases. You could fly around using katanas and shurikens if you find a store that specializes in collectable weapons. Or maybe you could visit a factory and gain control of their products just as they come off the assembly line and are prepared for shipping. You can control both boxes and anything inside a box. As long as you find the right boxes and their contents, you could be pretty hard to stop. So don't even think for a second that you and your powers are worthless." Her eyes briefly flickered away from him, "And look at it this way. At least you have some kind of powers. You don't see me flying through the air, blasting stuff with my hands, or turning invisible. Or even using ghost-hunting equipment. I'm not Danny or my parents. Their strengths aren't necessarily mine."

"But you're smart and nice," he pointed out, briefly wondering what it would be like being the normal sibling to Phantom.

She smiled, "Thanks. But my point is that you shouldn't always try and compare yourself to others. There will always be those who seem better than you, but there will also be those who seem worse. Everyone has different strengths and skills, so just focus on being the best you can be. Make the most of what you have and never underestimate your worth. You don't have to spend all your time proving yourself to other people. As long as you realize and accept the extent of your potential and capabilities, the rest of the world will figure it out eventually too." She paused a moment before gaining a stern look, "But if you use anything we've discussed to attack my brother, we're going to have a problem."

The Box Ghost held his arms in surrender, quite certain he didn't want to be on the intelligent and insightful teenager's bad side, "There won't be a problem. You have my most _solemn_ and unbreakable oath that the wisdom you share with me shall not be turned against Phantom. It would be far kinder to spare him the humiliation of falling to _my_ power over all things box-like."

She gained a rueful grin, but didn't say a word and didn't roll her eyes at his loud announcement. The specter began seriously considering the idea of asking her advice in regards to asking out the Lunch Lady. Before he could approach the subject, however, a loud and chaotic-sounding disturbance erupted from the basement.

* * *

About five seconds before it happened, Danny realized he'd made a mistake. He'd thought he'd covered all problems. When he and Valerie arrived at his house, the teenage boy reminded her there were several ghost enemies in the lab downstairs. He even asked her to remove her ghost-hunting suit to remove temptation while he remained in his ghost form in case the normally-hostile specters got… twitchy at her arrival. The most he expected to deal with would be her arguing with Skulker about the time he kidnapped her for a hunt or something similar. He expected some tension, but nothing that couldn't be managed.

Unfortunately, he forgot an important fact. While worrying about her reactions to the ghosts in the basement, he forgot to consider how she might react to the halfa that used her as a tool before that very public reveal. That was the face he should have prepared her to encounter.

" _You_?" she shouted before Danny could correct his mistake. Her gaze was locked on an equally-startled Vlad Masters, her expression shifting quickly from surprise to rage. "You!" she repeated with quite a bit of venom.

Before Danny could explain or at least grab her, Valerie had dropped the greasy bags of fast food and was across the basement delivering a right hook directly to Vlad's jaw. While the man was normally a formidable opponent, the combination of shock, the force behind the angry girl's fist, and the fact Vlad was currently not in his ghost form meant the blow knocked him flat. The reactions to the abrupt attack were stunned silence (the Fenton parents), an approving clap (Ember), and a mildly-sympathetic wince (Skulker) while Technus did not even glance up from his nest of schematics. Before she could begin the second round, Danny managed to fly over and grab her arm.

"Easy, Val," he said. "Let's calm down."

"'Calm down?' That's Plasmius," she shouted, pointing at the white-haired man now rubbing his jaw where she punched. "He's the guy who was tricking me and using me since I started hunting ghosts." She struggled against Danny's gentle, but firm grasp on her arms. "Not to mention Danielle. Or trying to take over the world not too long ago. What's he doing here?"

"The same thing as everyone else: waiting to deal with Ammit," Danny stated, trying to tug her away from the man. "I know you have issues with the guy. You deserve the chance to hit him."

"And she definitely took advantage of that chance. Nice punch, girl," commented Ember, sounding impressed.

"But he's offered to help us, so pounding on Vlad's face isn't an option at the moment," Danny continued. "Trust me, you're not alone. Practically everyone in my family would love to take a swing at him and I have a long list of reasons for why we deserve to punch him. None of us like him or trust him, but we need all the help we can get. So we'll have to deal with him."

"You can't seriously expect me to work with _him_ ," Valerie snarled as Vlad climbed carefully to his feet and wisely remained quiet.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," muttered Danny tiredly. "Or at least, he's my temporary ally that I'm watching carefully." Finally letting the girl go, he added, "Nobody is happy with this arrangement, but everyone will have to deal with it. Considering he's messed with my life the most and I'm willing to work with the guy, I think you'll adapt. Is this going to be a problem, Valerie?"

She directed a quick glare at the man, prompting Vlad to hold his hands up in surrender. Somehow his remorseful expression and attempt to appear harmless managed to make the teenage girl appear even angrier. But after a moment she stepped away from the man and out of Danny's grip.

"Fine," she spat. "I'll leave him alone. But if he even thinks of trying something, I'm using him for target practice." She snatched up the bags of fast food and started stomping up the stairs, shouting, "If anyone's hungry, the burgers will be in the kitchen."

After watching her retreat from the basement and waiting to ensure she wasn't intending to return for the moment, Vlad commented quietly, "That could have gone worse."

"Yeah, she didn't break out the ghost-hunting gear on you," the ghost boy remarked. "That's always a good sign. I can't even count the number of times I've had to deal with her blasting her weapons at my head. Though, I have to admit that watching her punch you was pretty entertaining."

"I am so glad that my pain amuses you," he muttered, some of the sarcasm that Danny had been missing seeping into his tone.

He shrugged, "You've dealt with a lot worse than that. Not to mention you're the one who turned her into a ghost hunter. You gave her the gear. And you're part of the reason she could attack me on a regular basis for a while. I don't see why you shouldn't get to enjoy some of the Valerie punishment."

"Is everyone all right?" asked Jazz, scurrying down the stairs. "I heard something a minute ago and Valerie's in our kitchen, furious and muttering."

"Red Huntress decided to strike a blow against Plasmius," explained Skulker with an evil grin on his face. "She did not take his presence or the news that he would be fighting alongside us well."

"Don't worry," Danny said. "We have things under control for the moment. Though, I don't think anyone would mind if you want to keep an eye on her and maybe talk to Valerie upstairs. Keeping her away from Vlad might be safer for everyone."

Jazz would be better at that. There wouldn't be any confusing past feelings like there would be if he went up there. Valerie never shot at Jazz or thought she was an evil ghost, after all. It would be nice and straightforward. Plus, if she was any good at the psychology thing, maybe a talk to Jazz would be helpful to the dark-haired girl.

Fighting back a yawn, Danny almost didn't notice Poindexter and Dora returning by phasing through the ceiling. The pair seemed to realize that something had changed since they left on their short recruiting mission.

"Did we miss something?" the bespectacled ghost asked.

* * *

He'd been lonely for a long time. Klemper didn't even know how long. All he'd wanted was a friend, a real one who liked him and wouldn't push him away. He'd searched for one in both the Ghost Zone and the Human Realm. The desire to not be alone kept urging him to continue, lashing out against anyone who might stop him from finding even one true friend. Klemper honestly felt that it wasn't too much to ask for companionship. And yet he kept encountering resistance.

On numerous occasions, the ghost was informed of his faults. He was told exactly why no one would be his friend. His clingy and whiney personality and voice drove others away. His desperation for friendship was off-putting. And his appearance left much to be desired. Klemper couldn't help his crooked teeth, asymmetrical face, hunched-back, or the fact he wore red-and-white pajamas. And he couldn't change his personality. Still, couldn't someone look past all that to see he would be the best and most loyal friend ever if given the chance? If history was any judge, apparently they couldn't.

Then Phantom appeared one day in one of the coldest corners of the Ghost Zone. After extracting a promise not to bother the human world anymore, the ghost boy gave Klemper something precious. And thus ended the eternal quest for friendship.

Klemper loved Cujo. The green puppy always wanted to play with him, chasing the squeaky toy across the frozen landscape. The canine would happily snuggle against the lonely ghost, licking his face or perking his ears to listen to Klemper speak. There were no complaints or sharp words for the blond specter to leave. Cujo would simply wag his tail. And most important, he stayed. The ghost dog would never abandon him. Even when something bad happened.

When they felt Ammit awaken, Cujo instantly shifted to his larger form. He growled and snarled, his hackles raised in response to the threat they couldn't see yet. But he never left Klemper's side. In fact, the giant dog remained in place as if to guard his friend. That thought warmed the cold-natured ghost. Still, not wanting Cujo to face someone that dangerous, he led the canine back to the log cabin Klemper called home. They needed to hide.

It was a small and lonely space, a perfect reflection of the isolated ghost he was before Cujo joined him. Bare walls, a stone fireplace, a single chair, and a small bed in the corner, it certainly made a ghost feel isolated and unwanted. The fluffy red blanket and squeaky toy helped change the image, showing that Cujo belonged now. Klemper was even considering the idea of hanging a picture of the puppy on the log walls.

"Don't worry," he assured Cujo, the dog having regained his smaller form in the hours since. "No one ever comes here, so he'll never find us."

He stroked the canine's ears, but he could feel the tenseness still present in his friend's little body. Honestly, Klemper felt equally uneasy. No matter how isolated and remote his home might be, Ammit would eventually arrive. The stories promised that much. There would be destruction and chaos. And they would be destroyed. _Cujo_ would be destroyed.

That scared Klemper the most. Not his own assured demise at Ammit's hands, but the loss of his only real friend. Even the idea of losing the companionship he searched for terrified and depressed him. He didn't want to be alone again, regardless of how quickly the cold-natured ghost would also be destroyed. Klemper wanted to keep Cujo safe. Unfortunately, he also knew that he wouldn't be able to stop Ammit from taking away his friend. He honestly shouldn't be surprised the universe would turn against, an unstoppable omnicidal maniac awakening just when his loneliness ended. Still, Klemper wished his calming words to the ghost dog were true. He wished he could hide them effectively enough that no one could ever find or harm them.

Of all the sounds he could imagine interrupting his unpleasant thoughts, a knock on the door was the last one he'd expected. After all, a knock at the door meant there was someone on the other side of it. It meant he had a visitor. And Klemper knew that no one ever wanted to visit him. So he was too shocked at first to react when someone _did_ knock.

He stared at the door, too stunned by events to even try answering it. Cujo, his ears perking at the first sounds of a guest, barked. It wasn't a hostile sound of warning. Instead, it was an excited and happy bark that left the ghost dog wagging his tail and running over to the door in preparation to meet the new arrival. Since Klemper highly doubted Ammit would knock when he arrived to destroy everyone, he couldn't even guess who would be outside his home. Only when the knocking repeated itself did he realize how long he'd been staring at the door.

Uncertain of what he would find, Klemper finally turned the doorknob and opened it. For the lonely ghost, the small crowd on the other side was a little overwhelming. The white-furred yeti was a familiar sight; he and his people shared the frozen landscape with blond specter. Klemper avoided bothering them because he didn't want them driving him away from his home. After all, every other attempt at friendship led to someone chasing him away. So he never approached the closest thing he had to neighbors. But he knew who Frostbite was. He _didn't_ know the dark-furred, wolf-like ghost in the green hoodie. Beside him was, oddly, a pair of humans. Klemper recognized the boy with the red beret and the girl in black clothes as friends of Phantom (or maybe a friend and girlfriend). They were bundled in furry blankets against the cold. Finally there was a ghost girl who looked oddly like a younger, female Phantom. He honestly didn't know how to react to the group, though Cujo looked happy to see most of them.

The boy, Tucker, offered a broad grin to the confused ghost, "Hey there, Klemper. How's our buddy doing? We've got a little favor to ask."

While he felt a tiny flutter of joy at the word "buddy," Klemper felt a stronger surge of dread. No one liked him and no one ever visited, so he realized what they must want. It was especially clear since they sent at least two friends of Phantom and a ghost even better than Klemper at manipulating the cold. After all, nothing good ever happened to him and anyone he wanted to have as a friend left. Why should now be any different? He couldn't fight it; he couldn't win.

Picking up the ghost dog and cuddling him close to his striped pajamas, Klemper whimpered, "Please don't take Cujo back. I've been good like I promised. Let me keep my friend."

"Easy, Klemper," soothed the black-haired girl, Sam. "We're not taking Cujo away from you."

"…Really?"

"Of course not. I'm a big fan of the whole boy and his dog thing," she assured. "Or rather, a ghost and his transforming ghost dog."

Still holding Cujo close, he asked, "Then why are you here? _No one_ comes here."

"Well, have you heard about Ammit waking up?" began Tucker.

* * *

Cujo was a good boy. He knew that. All the humans said so.

His old Alpha, the one who kept lots of dogs to guard the big building and would sometimes play with the squeaky toy, used to say he was a good boy. Even the last time he saw the old Alpha, though he was sad, said it. Cujo knew his old Alpha, a smart and nice human who gave orders and treats, was really sad about taking Cujo to the funny-smelling place with the human with pointy things. He remembered his old Alpha being sad as the dog started getting sleepy. The human seemed really sad and Cujo woke up like one of the floaty humans instead of like a normal dog. It was odd being able to go through things and get big or small, but he was still a good boy. He could still guard and play with his squeaky toy, but his old pack and Alpha were gone. He wished he could show the old Alpha everything was all right and that he was still a good boy, but he didn't know how to find him.

But it wasn't too bad. He had a new pack and a new Alpha. There weren't any other dogs, though. The pack was made of humans, normal and floaty. The floaty humans smelled different than others. They could fly like birds, go through stuff, and other fun tricks. The floaty humans were like him now. Or rather, he was now like them. But he still liked the normal humans too. Humans were just good. They could scratch ears, throw balls, and tell him that he was a good boy. So he liked his new pack.

The cold floaty human was part of his pack. The Alpha left Cujo with the cold floaty human and that was good because pack-mates shouldn't be alone. Cujo stayed with his new pack-mate, Klemper, and guarded him. They were all right by themselves, playing and being good. But then the Bad Thing arrived. Cujo didn't know what the Bad Thing was. He couldn't hear it, see it, or smell it, but it scared him and his pack-mate. So Cujo wasn't surprised when other members of the pack appeared at Klemper's den. A pack must be united when danger is around.

Cujo studied the pack members, both familiar and new, as Klemper spoke. He knew the normal humans. The boy who smelled like meat was the Alpha's trusted companion, his Beta. The girl who never smelled like meat was clearly the Alpha's mate. Cujo liked them, Tucker and Sam. He didn't know the floaty furry humans with them though. One smelled almost like another dog or a wolf, but not quite. The other was cold. He was winter, snow, and ice hidden under fur as thick as the warmest blanket Cujo ever slept on. He reminded the canine of Klemper. He didn't know them, but his pack-mates treated them like pack members and that was good enough for him.

The final new pack-mate was odd. She was a floaty-normal human. The only other person who smelled like that, both normal and floaty, was the Alpha. In fact, she smelled a lot like the Alpha. She was smaller and female, but that didn't change the confusing fact that Cujo kept imaging his Alpha when he focused on her.

Perhaps she was another Alpha and his sister. The growly, floating, wolf-human acted like she was of higher rank than him. She would have to be strong and smart if she was an Alpha. Or maybe she was another Beta, like Tucker. Cujo would wait to see how she acted around his Alpha to know for certain.

What he _did_ know for sure was that the girl was young. And young humans were fun. They liked to run and play. They would throw toys for good dogs to chase. Maybe she would play later. His tail was wagging just at the thought of playing fetch with her. And he could lick her face afterwards and she'd laugh. It would be fun.

But first, they needed to get rid of the Bad Thing. They needed to track it down and attack it as a pack. It was an intruder, which was something Cujo spent his life guarding against. Guard the building. Guard the Alpha. Guard the pack. He could do that. He would fight the enemy, no matter how strong or scary. They were stronger together than anything. Cujo would keep the Bad Thing out.

He was a good boy.

* * *

Perched on the roof of the Fenton's observatory, the Box Ghost pondered everything the teenager told him earlier. Jazz certainly knew how to leave a ghost with a lot on their mind. He stared at the stars as his thoughts turned and twisted. She seemed to think he was so great and pointed out all the ways he could theoretically use his powers. Of course, if he was even a fraction as talented as she gave him credit for, he would have figured out how to do the things she suggested a long time ago. Still, her confidence and acceptance was a rather nice combination in small doses. It was nice, if overwhelming.

Briefly, disjointed and cloudy memories of another red-head trickled around the back of his mind. There was no real reason why she should remind him of that person. The hair color was the only obvious similarity. She was patient, understand, and friendly to the ghost. The person in the memories was reckless and barely noticed him. Tony should be more careful…

The ghost banished the fragment of memory from his thoughts and turned his attention to something the girl said. If he could find the right boxes with the right contents, he could be formidable. And their opponent was beyond dangerous. So what would be the best way to help? What kind of boxes could stand a chance against Ammit? After all, shoe boxes and refrigerator boxes wouldn't even slow him down.

The Box Ghost shook his head. He was asking the wrong questions. It wasn't the box that was important in this case. It was what someone would store inside. What would be the best tools to use against such a threat and where would they store such a thing?

As someone with vast experience at being defeated and capture, an idea dawned on him. A grin spread across the specter's face as the details swiftly fell into place. It was so simple. It was so amazing simple and easy.

Not even hesitating a moment longer, he decided to put his plan into action. The blue ghost flew off into the night.


	10. Danielle

Jazz watched Valerie a moment as she angrily chewed one of the burgers, ripping it apart like it had personally offended her. Then, before she could take another bite, the red-head decided to dive right in.

"You know it's all right to be mad at him, right? Everyone else is."

"I know. I just don't want to work with him. He can't be trusted," Valerie muttered. "He'll turn on us the moment it's in his best interest."

She shrugged, "Possibly. Or he might have actually changed and want to make amends."

"What? How can you say that? Especially when the guy's been messing with your family the most out of everyone."

"Because someone has to consider the possibility," Jazz said. "After all, there's no good reason for him to have come back. Especially when something powerful and evil is about to start knocking on our front door. I don't trust the man, even if he's had less to do with me than anyone else in this family. But he may honestly want to help, even if it is dangerous and he might be killed in the process."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "Give me one reason why I should believe he'd suddenly decide to turn over a new leaf and be friends with the people he hates the most."

The teenage met her gaze firmly and said, "You did."

That remark left Valerie silent. The dark-skinned girl eyes dropped and she stared down at her food. Jazz didn't know whether or not to believe Vlad's apparent reformation. It was possible, especially after something as life-changing as the events surrounding the Dis-asteroid. But it was equally possible that it was all part of some long-term scheme. But if there was even the slightest possibility that he wanted to be a better man, it would only work if he was given a chance. And since no one else in her entire family was willing to consider the possibility, Jazz had no choice but to be the open-minded one.

She wouldn't be able to make anyone else trust him. He'd have to do that himself. And she knew it would take a lot of work for anyone to trust Vlad after all he'd done. The best the red-head could hope to accomplish was that she might be able to keep someone from shooting the man's head off before he had the opportunity to show whether or not he truly wanted redemption. Maybe she could at least convince Valerie that working alongside the man, someone who betrayed everyone in the past, wasn't completely crazy.

The man did a lot of harm to a lot of people, but it wasn't that long ago Valerie was trying to shoot Danny out of the sky. People could change. And when the fate all humanity and all the ghosts were at stake, they couldn't exactly be picky when it came to teammates.

"We don't have to like him. We don't have to trust him. We don't even have to forgive him. No one is asking you to," she continued. "Just don't be so angry and stubborn that you can't work with him temporarily. Be open to the possibility that he might be telling the truth and actually want to change. Don't let your temper get the better of you. Just… keep an open-mind."

The red-head saw a rather thoughtful expression cross the teen's face at her words. She didn't know how much Valerie would accept about what she was saying. She certainly didn't expect the brunette to be best friends with the man. But she seemed to be considering Jazz's words. For now, maybe it would be enough. Maybe they could all work together without too many problems.

"Besides," said Jazz, trying to lighten the mood, "you and Skulker can compete to hunt him down after the current disaster is over."

There was a brief hesitation before Valerie smiled. Jazz could see a faintly-evil gleam in the girl's eyes, but she would take what she could get.

"That could be fun," she said.

* * *

"Okay, this is my spare PDA. Do _not_ lose it," stated Tucker as he handed over his precious piece of technology to the tribe of yeti ghosts. "Or break it. Or freeze it solid."

"Do not be concerned, friend of the Great One," Frostbite assured. "We shall treat your device with caution and respect."

Danielle watched as the teenage boy nodded and said, "Good. An alarm will go off when we're ready for you and everyone else to show up. When you hear the signal, Wulf will slice a hole to the mall. He says he remembers where it is from when he was wandering Amity Park trying to track Danny for Walker."

She glanced at her furry companion. She'd like to hear the complete version of that story someday, but she'd managed to pick up the basics of what happened. And if she ever ran into that Walker person, Danielle decided she'd kick him in the face.

"That means he can tear a portal to the right spot," Tucker continued. "It also means Wulf will have to stay here for a little while. Sorry about that."

"It'll be fine," Danielle assured. "We can survive being split apart."

"I was apologizing to him," the boy corrected. "Frostbite's people are nice and he'd probably get along with Cujo. But he'll also be hanging around Klemper for a few hours…"

He looked towards the pajama-clad ghost with a small grimace. He was still cuddling his tiny and adorable puppy. Honestly, Danielle didn't see what the big deal with Klemper was. He was protective and nervous about his dog, but that didn't seem that bad. There was no reason that she could see that would make Wulf staying be a bad thing. Plus, maybe he could play with the puppy for a while before the battle against the supreme evil ghost could begin.

"It… okay," said Wulf in the fragments of English she'd been working to teach him."You go… I stay."

Smiling at her friend, the halfa floated over and wrapped her arms around his furry neck in a hug. She really liked the overgrown furball, ever since they met. Danny had Sam and Tucker while she had a werewolf-looking ghost who spoke gibberish, but it was nice having him around.

Leaving him behind even temporarily felt weird, but Danielle wouldn't admit it out loud. She had a reputation to maintain. She could take care of herself, even if Danny's family was planning to keep her. She didn't need anyone thinking that she wouldn't be all right without her friend. Still, she couldn't leave without saying something.

"Be careful," she said quietly.

"Bonŝancon, mia amiko," he responded before releasing the hug.

"Guess it'll just be the three of us on the trip back," remarked Sam, shrugging off the furry blanket reluctantly.

"Wulf, would you do the honors?" Tucker said, mirroring her action and handing the borrowed blankets back to Frostbite. "Let's go back somewhere warm."

The furry ghost nodded and extended his claws. Then with a quick motion, he tore through the dimensional barrier with practically no effort. Danielle smiled one last time at Wulf before joining the older teens in diving through the impromptu portal back to Danny's basement.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the endless snow of the frozen wasteland of the Ghost Zone to the dim basement. Then, before she could greet her cousin or say anything about how their mission went, she froze. Standing there just a few feet away was someone she never expected. Someone she never wanted to see again. For a second, everything was in a state of stunned silence and she felt numb. Then, as an eruption of mixed emotions began to bubble up, she grabbed onto the first one that she recognized and shoved away the others. And the feeling she chose was rage.

The halfa launched herself at the man she once called "father," swinging a right fist at his face before anyone could react. She felt it impact, the momentum behind her strike ensuring that it made firm contact with her target. But she also felt a painful shock that repelled her. Thus, both of them were sent flying backwards from her attack. Danielle felt herself knock into something that yelped on impact. It didn't take a genius to realize she'd crashed into Tucker as she sent them both tumbling to the ground. All she cared about at the moment, however, was lashing out at Vlad some more.

"Time out," she heard Danny shout. "I can explain."

At the boy's words, Tucker's arms wrapped around the girl to keep her from attacking her target further. Danielle knew she could just phase through the octopus-like grip of the teen, but she forced herself to stay put. She wanted to punch Vlad again. She wanted to kick him, beat the stuffing out of him, blast him at full power, scream at him, beg him _why_ she wasn't good enough… But Danny wanted her to stop. To wait until he explained. And as much as she wanted to lash out at the man, she trusted her cousin. Danny had to have a good reason for what was happening. She'd give him a minute and then she'd go back to attacking the man.

"Start talking, Danny, because I'm shooting him if he even twitches," stated Sam.

Danielle looked up to see the teenage girl aiming her wrist-mounted weapons at Vlad, who rubbed his jaw gingerly. She hoped it really hurt. The gathered ghosts seemed either uncomfortable (the princess and the black-and-white boy) or entertained (everyone else). Maddie and Jack were no longer looking at their science stuff and seemed to be on the verge of helping her beat up the man again. Good. She'd appreciate the back-up. Danny floated over the scene, annoyance clear on his face. And naturally most of it was directed at the older halfa.

The man glanced at the weapon directed at his head. He seemed rather unfazed by Sam's actions. Danielle hoped she would shoot him a few times.

"Samantha, you might be more threatening if you used something other than an ecto-based weapon. Thanks to the insistence of Daniel, I'm rather immune to them at the moment." He gestured towards the weird and ugly belt he was wearing. He glanced momentarily in Danielle's direction, which set her teeth on edge, "In fact, I'm surprised that punch even landed. The only thing I can figure is that the pure momentum of the swing was enough. It probably wouldn't have even hurt me except someone managed to hit the exact same spot with a previous punch." He looked back at Sam, "For now, ghosts and ecto-weapons are off the table."

"Fine. Of course, I'm human. I could always just aim a combat boot toward something vulnerable instead," the Goth teen retaliated.

"Why do you keep choosing such violent girlfriends, Daniel?" he asked, eyeing the combat boots in question rather carefully.

"Did you actually tell this fruit-loop we're dating or is he yet another person who figured it out on his own?" she growled.

"Hey," Tucker interrupted, never releasing his grip on the youngest halfa, "can someone explain why Vlad is back from space and in the basement instead of orbit? Because I feel like that's more important than whether or not he's up to speed on everyone's love life."

"Short version?" Danny said tensely. "He came back, offered to help, and Clockwork's advice means we can't just kick him to the curb."

No. No, no, no. He couldn't be serious. Danielle could see that her cousin wanted nothing more than to get rid of Vlad. But he was going to let him stay. She couldn't work with that man. She wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him. She couldn't… She could only manage to hold onto her blind fury for so long before the other tangled emotions began to escape and ruin everything. And she'd rather stick with anger than deal with any of the others.

"He's been warned to be on his best behavior and he's stuck with the Specter Deflector until show time," he continued. "No one is happy so far, but beggars can't be choosers. We need everyone that we can scrape together."

She wanted to beg Danny to get rid of him. She wanted him to fix this mess. But he was right about them needing all the help possible. Danielle knew it, but she hated the fact he was back in her life. She wanted Vlad gone. He made everything horrible and complicated.

Then he made it worse. Vlad looked at her, his expression something almost apologetic.

"Danielle," the man said softly.

That was the last straw. The girl phased through the restraining arms before shifting instantly to her human shape. No longer a ghost, her punch to his face only hurt _him_ this time as she yelled in wordless fury at the man. Her intention to beat him to a pulp, however, was interrupted once more as someone grabbed her and pulled her straight through the ceiling.

* * *

As everyone watched Vlad wince at the result of being punched in the face three times by rightfully-furious girls with serious grudges against him, someone gave off an impressed whistle.

"Is there anyone here that doesn't hate Plasmius?" asked Ember.

* * *

She fought against the grip, wanting to get back downstairs to hit him some more, but the arms wrapped in a tight hug around her never loosened. Danielle shrieked and struggled, but she didn't transform. As much as she wanted to escape, she wanted that protective and dependable presence holding her far more.

"Danny?" she heard voices call from nearby, but the girl ignored them.

She felt herself slowing down, her attempts to lash out weakening. Instead of trying to break free, she found herself returning the embrace. Her fingers dug into his costume. Danielle realized there were tears on her face. The girl refused to consider the idea she was crying. They were berserker tears. That was a thing, right? Getting mad enough for tears to form? She liked that explanation more than the alternative. That explanation didn't make her sound weak.

"I'm sorry," Danny's voice assured. "I'm sorry you came back to that."

"I hate him," she choked out. "I hate him. Why couldn't he stay away?"

"I know. I'm sorry, Danielle," he soothed.

"I'm guessing she ran into Vlad?" someone remarked from close by, causing the young halfa to abruptly release her desperate grip on her cousin and quickly wipe away any sign of tears.

"Valerie? When did you get here?" she asked, spotting the familiar face.

Danny had apparently phased them into the living room. Standing near the doorway to the kitchen was Valerie and Jazz wearing identical concerned expressions on their faces. On the one hand, Danielle didn't want to be pitied. On the other hand, she liked having more people who cared about her enough to worry.

When the female halfa nodded in response to the question, the older girls headed over ot the couch and gestured for her to join them. She only hesitated a moment before finding a spot on the cushion next to Valerie. Danny quickly sat on the other side of Danielle. Fitting all four of them on the couch wasn't exactly easy, but they managed somehow without shoving Jazz onto the floor or having to sit in anyone's lap. She wished Wulf was present too, but this wasn't too bad. The dark-haired girl rubbed the Danielle's head affectionately, clearly happy to have see her again.

"Did you get to punch him too?" Valerie asked.

"Twice," confirmed Danny. "I think she hit the same spot you did."

"Nice," she grinned.

"I feel that I should say something about how we shouldn't be fighting among ourselves, but he _does_ kind of deserve it from Danielle," commented Jazz.

"He _definitely_ deserved it," said Danny. "But we can't have Danielle beating him up all night."

"Why not?" she exploded, throwing her arms in the air. "I can't work with him. I hate him. He's horrible. He's cruel, manipulative, heartless, and awful. He used me like an oversized puppet and tossed me aside for the newest model. He tried to turn me into a puddle of goo for science. He's done so many horrible things. He lied. He said he cared about me…"

Her voice betrayed her, cracking as she fought against the return of tears. Danny looked at her with his glowing green eyes, somehow managing to apologize for everything that happened to her without saying a single word.

"He said he loved me, that I was his daughter… He just used me. I was just a stupid part of his stupid plan. I hate him because it hurts. I _wanted_ him to be my dad. It hurts that he didn't want me, even if he's a horrible person."

Danielle couldn't help venting all her frustration, anger, and heartache. Besides Wulf, who else could she talk to about this stuff? She'd just been bottling it all up and ignoring it for a big chunk of her life since she learned the truth about Vlad. And after coming face to face with him so unexpectedly, she couldn't contain it anymore. The words just kept spilling out in a tangled and confusing mess that she could barely organize into sentences. And she definitely couldn't censor her thoughts enough to keep the worst parts hidden away.

"It hurts I was stupid enough to believe his lies. It isn't fair. I know he's a heartless jerk, but… part of me is so dumb… even after everything he's done, part of me is stupid enough to still love him. I hate it. I hate him. I hate that I still think of him as 'father' sometimes. He doesn't deserve to be called that. I _know_ that. And I shouldn't care what he thinks or… or even if he still exists, but I do. And I hate him for making me feel like this and I don't know how to stop feeling like this. It's just a mess and I can take care of myself, but I don't know what to do. I want to hit him and kick him and knock his teeth out and ask him why I wasn't good enough to be his child _all at the same time_. But mostly hit him. It's so stupid. How can I be this stupid?"

"You're not stupid," all three of the teens shouted in unison.

The unified statement was enough to end the girl's rambling, but Danielle still thought it startled them more than it did her. All three blinked at each other, apparently trying to figure out who should speak now and what they should say. After what appeared to be a silent debate performed completely through the use of significant looks and shrugs, it seemed that Jazz was selected to be their representative in the conversation.

The red-head teen stated, "I know a lot of things about your life can't be called normal, but the feelings you're describing _are_." When Danielle opened her mouth to argue, Jazz held up a hand to stop. "Trust me. I know what I'm talking about. Forget about the cloning situation for a minute and look at the basics. Vlad raised you and your earliest memories are of him in a parental role, right? So it's perfectly natural to think of him as your father, regardless of what you learned about him or how he acted later. And because you viewed him as your father for a large portion of your life, it's normal to care about him and seek his approval. And those feelings won't disappear instantly just because he has betrayed your trust and harmed you with his actions. Your subconscious still sees him as your father even if you know your relationship with him has changed. It will take time for your emotions to stop reacting to him as a parental figure and there may even be a few lingering feelings that won't ever leave, but it isn't stupid to still love him even as you hate him for what he's done. As long as you don't blindly ignore his faults and actions because of those feelings, and understand what he did was wrong and that you deserve so much better, then you'll be perfectly okay. And remember that there are people who love you, support you, and want you to be safe and happy. We want you, Danielle. And if you need to talk, we'll listen."

The halfa girl had to admit; the red-head was good. She sorted out the tangle of conflicting emotions, rationalizing and explaining their existence in a way Danielle could never manage to put into worlds. The teen never dismissed or said those feelings were wrong. She said it was normal. She wasn't crazy or stupid because she couldn't banish all her past emotions about Vlad.

And then Jazz said that they wanted her, that they loved her. Those were words that made the girl feel warmer every time she heard them. She'd missed out on those kinds of reassurances over the course of most of her life or the times she did hear them would turn out to be lies. Danielle soaked in those words whenever she could. True and honest affections was something precious and the black-haired girl would never belittle their importance.

"Thanks," she said quietly, smiling slightly.

Then Danielle was swallowed up in an impromptu group hug. She was trapped in a tangle of arms so tight and warm that the girl was worrying that she'd have to phase through them in order to escape. But like the hug from Maddie earlier in the evening, Danielle didn't really want to end the embrace. She kind of liked being hugged by Danny, Jazz, and Valerie all at the same time.

"All right, girl," Valerie finally said, bringing the hug to an end, "now we need to focus on more important things than that jerk. Like the fact you're awake at this hour."

"Hey, it's not like I have a curfew or something," she complained.

"That'll probably change in the near future," muttered Jazz.

Danny shrugged, "We're fighting a super-strong, evil ghost tomorrow afternoon. I think all of us should get all the sleep we can."

"But I'm not tired," Danielle stated, stubbornly refusing to yawn.

"Yeah, but have you seen the time? It isn't even the middle of the night anymore. This is insanely-early-in-the-morning," Valerie pointed out. She gave the white-haired boy a thoughtful look, "Listen, since your house is packed full with random people already, how about Dani stays over at my place?"

"Really?" she asked, the idea of hanging out with Valerie and getting away from Vlad were equally tempting concepts.

"Sure," the older girl grinned. "It'll be like a slumber party."

Jazz pouted slightly, "But I wanted to have Danielle stay with us. I always wanted a little cousin. Or sister."

She couldn't help it. The young halfa started chuckling. After spending so much time thinking only Danny (and maybe Wulf) wanted her, she now had a couple of teenage girls fighting over who got to keep her. It was just hilarious to see the difference. All that was missing was Wulf growling protectively over her.

"Too bad. I saw her before you did, Jazz. I have dibs on Danielle," declared Valerie smugly, crossing her arms in an obvious (and successful) attempt to make the young girl laugh more.

"But she's my cousin and I saw her first," Danny commented, a smile threatening to break across his mock serious face. "Shouldn't I win the tug-a-war then?"

"Nope," the dark-skinned girl said before scooping up the laughing halfa in her arms. "Because I'm kidnapping her. Come on, Danielle. We'll call them later."

All thoughts about Vlad and the confusing emotional reactions his presence caused were completely banished as Valerie ran out the door with her captive companion laughing too hard to escape. Danielle could barely manage to wave at a chuckling Danny as the older girl summoned both her battle suit and hover board and took to the sky.

* * *

He knew it wasn't going to be easy when he decided to return. Vlad knew that he'd caused too much harm for anyone to trust him. He knew that many of his past mistakes would be thrown into his face and he'd be forced to answer for what he'd done. He thought he was prepared for what he would have to deal with, but it would seem that he was wrong.

Valerie throwing a punch to his face had been a definite surprise. He didn't expect her to have buried the hatchet with Danny, but it wasn't that shocking upon reflection. Especially since Danny Phantom's secret identity was no longer a secret. And at least she wasn't wearing her suit at the time and being half ghost did make it easier to recover from many injuries, so there wouldn't be a bruise. While he certainly owed the young lady a few apologies for using her for his own agenda (though he did provide her with the tools to do what she wanted, so maybe that balanced things out a little), there were plenty of people with far greater grievances that he would prefer to deal with first.

The bigger shock was the arrival of Danielle. He didn't even know where to start with that mess. If anyone deserved to hate him more than Danny, Jack, and Maddie for his actions, it was her.

Cloning Danny was a foolish attempt to force things to happen. Vlad wanted Danny as his son, no matter the cost. So he decided that since the boy was too stubborn to willingly make the smart choice and brainwashing wasn't reliable enough, he'd just make a perfect son. Granted, cloning people wasn't exactly his field of study in college, but he never let a little thing like a lack of knowledge get in his way. Besides, after a couple of decades as someone half ghost, he was the closest thing to an expert on their unique makeup at the time.

It didn't take him long to discover the pros and cons of attempting to clone a half-human, half-ghost hybrid. The instability of the genetic and molecular structure made it easier to tweak the physical appearance of the clones so they could be aged faster. Otherwise, he'd be left with an infant Danny rather than the one he desired. Aging was a complicated issue for ghosts, changing due to their self-image and stress rather than the mere passage of time, but Vlad had long since determined his human half still controlled his own rate of aging for the most part. But with his clones, he could "trick" them into maturing faster.

The biggest problem with cloning Danny was that the same instability that allowed him to accelerate their aging temporarily also made them… unstable. Their minds and bodies were prone to collapse, incorrect development, and always dissolved into ectoplasm. It took several attempts before Vlad could even create one that survived more than an hour. Apparently human DNA and ectoplasm doesn't mix well into viable structures. In hindsight, it was a miracle that he and Danny survived to become stable beings since even using samples of the boy's DNA was resulting in disaster. The DNA kept mutating during the process of recreating the half-ghost hybrid. But with each attempt, he came closer to success with his insane plan of replacing Danny with a perfect copy who would serve as the ideal son. Each imperfect and failed clone served as another stepping stone to his goal.

Which led to Danielle. She was the result of the ectoplasm-permeated DNA reacting in yet another unexpected way. Instead of bulking up the clone, creating extra limbs, dissolving the skin, rearranging the organs so that some were on the outside, or causing the limbs become malformed, the Y chromosome was dissolved while the X multiplied. It was an odd event, but no more so than any of the other changes to the genetic makeup he'd witnessed in his attempts. What was interesting was how she was self-aware, showing more intelligence and will power than the previous clones. But in his selfish and foolish pursuit of his goal, he did not really notice or appreciate that she was a real person who could be an actual daughter for him. Instead, he merely saw her as progress towards his desired clone of Danny and yet another tool he could use.

That was one of his greatest and cruelest problems in the past. He saw the world as a giant chessboard and everyone were pieces to manipulate. They were tools he could use to further his goals. They were puppets and he was the one pulling the strings. All that mattered was getting exactly what he wanted, what he thought he deserved in life, and anyone else existed to be used or disposed of when it served him best. That selfish view of the world was one that destroyed his life. Vlad could no more be that man any longer than he could reverse the flow of time. He was no longer that person.

But the damage was long since done. He treated a girl who could have been the family he'd always lacked as if she was a cheap and disposable asset. Because he saw her only as a means to an end, he was cruel and heartless to her. He nearly killed her with his actions because he just couldn't see that she was special, that she was a child he could have raised and he could have found contentment. But like everything else in his life, he ruined and destroyed that chance. She deserved better.

Now she was back, upstairs and furious with him. She was with Danny, which meant she would undoubtedly be fighting Ammit. Even if someone tried to force her to stay away from danger, she was too stubborn for that. No one could make her do something she didn't want to. Vlad knew that fact very well. She was yet another soul Vlad couldn't stand to see die. He'd failed the girl in so many ways, so many times. No wonder she hated him. After all he'd done, Danielle had no obligations to him. He, on the other hand, needed to ensure she survived the coming battle. He could do that much right at least.

There was a plan. It was even a decent plan. Vlad hadn't expected that when he returned to Earth, but he wasn't going to complain about a bit of good fortune. They might actually stand a chance if they were very, very lucky. Of course, Vlad knew death was still a strong possibility, even with the interesting collection of allies and the weapon meant to destroy ghosts that was currently being designed. The threat posed by Ammit was too high for him to hope everyone would escape unscathed.

But Vlad Masters would protect them, no matter how much they rightfully distrusted him and hated him. That was why he even came back from space. Maddie, Jack, Danny, Jazz, and now Danielle. He would make sure that, somehow, they would survive. He knew that even if he managed to succeed his self-appointed goal, he wouldn't be forgiven for his past. He didn't expect or deserve it. And he knew that they would not thank him if they survived Ammit's attack.

Mostly because he did not expect to be alive by that point.

"I still think that Danny's crazy to let you crawl back into our lives," muttered Sam, pulling Vlad's attention back to the numerous death glares directed towards him by all the humans and a few of the ghosts in the room.

"To be honest, I'm quite surprised myself. Especially since I was unaware of how much he had shared with his parents," he confessed.

"You mean like how you used to beat up our son in regular fights and you decided to _clone_ him when he refused to be loyal to you?" snapped Maddie.

Flinching slightly at her tone, he said, "Yes, such as that."

"We heard a little about the story. It was a real drag," the black-and-white ghost commented from the corner where he floated with the girl ghost in a dress. "I'm not surprised the doll flipped out on you."

"Clone a kid and nearly kill her because she wasn't an exact copy of Phantom? Yeah, I'd encourage her to rebel against her dad like that," added the musical ghost.

"Too bad Wulf isn't here," Sam commented, studying the Fenton Wrist Rays strapped to her arm. "He'd probably try to rip your face off, even with the Specter Deflector on. He's pretty fond of her."

"I'm sensing some real hostility, Samantha," Vlad remarked dryly, years of habit at being in control of the situation overriding his intentions to make amends. "Is there a reason why you in particular are having such difficulties with me offering assistance?"

"After watching you run around trying to destroy everyone's lives in a petty attempt to make _you_ happy while still making it seem like you were a nice guy really annoyed me," she said. "It's kind of nice that we don't have to pretend anymore. You're a heartless monster and you made Danny's life miserable for way too long."

"This is rather entertaining. Perhaps we should find some popcorn," Skulker commented before the blue-haired ghost jabbed her elbow into his chest.

Vlad stared at the girl carefully. He'd studied Danny's friends during the course of their enemy relationship. He knew that she was sort of a hippie activist, but he also knew that she assisted Danny during his battles against aggressive ghosts. He'd wondered at times if they were dating or if they were still in denial because it was obvious that they had feelings for each other, especially in the time shortly before the Dis-asteroid. Now that they were obviously dating officially, she'd apparently become even more protective of Danny. Which explained why she was reacting so badly to Vlad's presence.

Perhaps their relationship would be better than his attempts to win over Maddie. He hoped so. They deserved to have happiness.

"I am fully aware of exactly how much damage I caused," stated Vlad.

"I highly doubt it, Masters," muttered Jack, not even looking up from his work.

Yeah, that still hit him harder than he expected. He never imagined that he would manage to make Jack hate him. The amount of venom in his tone and how coldly he now spoke to Vlad was a little disconcerting. After being annoyed by and hating the man for so long, he now missed the days where Jack acted like they were best friends. He missed the familiarity of it.

"Well, Danielle headed to spend the night with Valerie," remarked Danny as he flew down the stairs. "She'll be all right, but I definitely suggest keeping the girls away from him tomorrow." He gave Vlad a stern glare, "If you even _think_ about going near Danielle, I'll stuff you in the thermos with Undergrowth. And I don't care how tough you are, I'll knock you back into orbit if you do anything to hurt her ever again. Understand?"

He held his hands up in surrender, "I wouldn't dream of it, Daniel. You've made your feelings about her well-being quite clear in the past. I didn't even intend to upset her this time."

The white-haired boy looked like he wanted to say more, but he thankfully let the matter drop. He was glad he didn't have to deal with his past mistakes anymore for the moment. He'd faced enough guilt during his time in space, contemplating all that he'd done that destroyed his life. Anything they might say was something he'd long since realized and regretted.

"Sam, Tucker, there's food upstairs in the kitchen if you're hungry," the boy said finally. "Interested?"

"You bought my salad?" the girl asked, receiving a nod. "I guess a little food couldn't hurt."

"Maybe later," the bespectacled boy shrugged, poking at his PDA. "I've got stuff to do."

"Sure thing, Tuck," Danny said. "Don't stay up too late with your technology. We've got to get some sleep before Ammit shows up."

"Make sure you fall your own advice, dude," he nodded.

"And who'll keep an eye on _him_ while we're busy?" asked Sam, gesturing at Vlad.

Skulker grinned with far more malice at the man than someone that used to supply weapons to the hunter ghost should receive. Apparently the loss of all resources and ability to outfit a hunter with firepower was enough to dismiss all past loyalty. He missed having the capabilities to bribe other ghosts to help him out.

"Guarding Plasmius is my job for the moment," he said. "If he causes any trouble, then I get a nice trophy to hang on my wall."

"Not planning to toss his pelt on your bed?" smirked Danny.

"No, Ghost Child," replied the hunter. "That's reserved for you."

"Joy," he said in deadpan tone.

* * *

Fighting back a yawn, Tucker went over the list of preparations on his PDA. He didn't want to forget anything. Everyone else needed to focus on the upcoming battle, big-picture issues, and the whole "no one wants to work with or trust Vlad" issue. But someone needed to handle logistics and manage the available resources. Someone needed to keep the population safe and under control. Someone needed to be Mission Control once it began.

He'd already arranged Ghost Drills for the schools to take place in the morning. He'd called to arrange people to set up huge flat-screen televisions sets in the Casper High gym, the food court at the mall, and the lobby of Axion Labs while also having them wire a direct connection to his computer so he could deliver announcements and instructions to the emergency locations. He was also having them wire in surround-sound speakers and ordered his assistant, Vicky, to take his copy of a certain song to be replicated and dispersed to those three locations. He'd considered arranging for the speakers to be placed all throughout the city, but the time and monetary cost could be better spent on another aspect of his preparations. So he limited the speakers to the areas that would be protected by ghost shields. Finally, he'd sent a message to the closest 24-hour electronic store and practically confiscated half their stock, having it delivered to the Fenton garage. That last one was where most of his "emergency situation" budget went.

As Mayor Foley, he'd done all he could currently do to ensure the safety of his hometown. As Tucker Foley, resident techno-geek with access to both the numerous wonders of an electronic store and a technopathic ghost, he was just getting started.

Making sure that the weapon-creating team was still on the planning stage, he borrowed one of Sam's Fenton Phones she used as earrings. Then, fighting yet another yawn that threatened to overwhelm him, Tucker poked Technus in the back.

The floating calculators and diagrams scattered around the specter like a strange and geeky nest were knocked down in surprise as the ghost spun around to face the boy. Even with the square shades hiding his eyes from sight, Tucker could see a brief moment of pure confusion at the human's presence. The boy knew the feeling, getting so drawn into a project or pastime that you forget about the rest of the world. But that moment of confusion quickly passed only to be replaced by annoyance with the interruption.

"Can't you see that I, Technus, am busy at the moment?" he shouted dramatically, gesturing at the formulas and equations that he and the Fentons were producing at relatively high speed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fenton can handle the designing for a little while," said Tucker. "I need your expertise and unique skills. No one else can do it. Especially not in the time we have."

A little flattery and the hint of a challenge was enough to pique the ghost's interest, so the boy led Technus out of the basement. Let no one say that Tucker Foley didn't know how to motivate a fellow fan of technology.

"When Ammit shows up tomorrow, we'll need to be organized. Someone needs to be able to keep an eye on everything that's happening and be able to relay that information to whoever needs it. Otherwise we could be outmaneuvered, trapped, tricked, or simply killed off one at a time," Tucker summarized. "It might also allow us to spot patterns or weak spots. That's where you come in."

Technus, listening with clear interest, tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, "What do you have in mind?"

"We need a network of mobile cameras that can feedback information to a central headquarters where I can manage things," he described, looking through the list of requirements he'd recorded on his PDA. "Flying cameras would be best since most ghost fights are airborne. And if you can add speakers, that would be great. But not necessary. They need to be able to target important aspects of the battle without input, but I'll need to also be able to directly control any of them if needed." He held up the Fenton Phone. "I'll also need lots of these, enough for everyone to wear one. That way, everyone can hear and be heard. It'll keep everything coordinated, maintain contact with the rest of the group, and it'll let someone call for help if things start going bad. Finally, I need a control center for me to operate from. I'll be managing the cameras, the Fenton Phones, a trio of television across the city I'll probably need to broadcast to at some point, and maybe a way to hack into the local news stations."

The green-skinned ghost stared as the boy finished reciting his list of requirements. He knew it was a lot to ask. It would take a normal team of people days to possibly produce what Tucker needed, especially without access to a specialized assembly line to manufacture the objects. But that was why he needed Technus. The ghost could build high-tech creations quickly and without all the appropriate parts simply by using ectoplasmic energy to _force_ it to work the way he wanted. Ghost powers were like the ultimate cheat code.

"Well, you certainly have a long list, boy," commented the ghost awkwardly.

"Nothing too complicated for your skills, right?" Tucker smirked. "You _are_ the Master of Technology last time I checked."

Bristling at the insinuation that the ghost _couldn't_ do what the boy needed, he shouted, "Your meager toys are barely challenges for I, Technus: Master of All Things Beeping and Electronic. But even a great genius of my caliber and funky-fresh skills cannot create something out of nothing. I need at least most of the correct pieces of technology to construct what you ask. I need a solid and high-tech foundation to build on."

"I thought you might say something like that," remarked Tucker before opening the garage and revealing the freshly-delivered boxes of supplies.

The grin that spread across the ghost's face was about two-thirds childish glee at having technology to play with and one-third evil inspiration from the depths of his genius. Tucker wondered if he looked like that when he bought a new PDA or upgraded his software. A glow surrounded the high-tech objects as they floated out of the box and began to orbit the cackling ghost.

"Ahahahahaha! Stand back, my hip little friend, while I show you how a real radical dude gets the job done."

Tucker quickly added a note to his PDA to tell Technus to cut back on the slang. Assuming they survived the coming battle long enough for him to do so.

* * *

There was a building ahead. He found that interesting because it wasn't abandoned like the other locations Ammit had passed. Instead, it appeared to be filled with many trapped and terrified ghosts. It took a moment to realize that he was approaching a prison. Instantly, he dismissed the possibility of finding an entertaining foe within those walls. If they were so weak that they could not escape, then they would undoubtedly fall to him in seconds. He'd kill them regardless of how boring it would be, but it didn't lessen his disappointment.

Then Ammit saw figures floating in formation, standing against the approaching shadows. How intriguing…

Most were similar to each other. Green skin, red eyes, and wearing uniforms. And they were afraid. They were definitely afraid of him. But they were also loyal to someone, loyal enough to face certain destruction at their orders. Perhaps a worthy foe?

In front of the gathered guards was a ghost, his face and clothes as white as bleached bone while wearing a strange hat as black as the approaching darkness that surrounded Ammit. The ghost floated there, his glowing green eyes unyielding and unrelenting. He did not care that he faced destruction. He would not bend or waver in his choices.

"This area of the Ghost Zone is off-limits to unauthorized persons," the white specter announced. "By approaching my prison, you are breaking the rules."

Ammit grinned. Yes, this might be worth a few minutes of entertainment if he was careful to drag things out. The tendrils of darkness lashed out at the waiting ghosts and the slaughter began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, not a cheerful chapter for Danielle. Let's face it. She's had a pretty crummy life so far. Vlad isn't going to win any Father Of The Year awards anytime soon and she's missed out on a lot of consistent love and reassurance. And even if she's physically, mentally, and emotionally about twelve years old, she's actually really young. I think she's entitled to the occasion freak out when unexpectantly confronted with the idea of teaming up with her not-so-great father figure who nearly reduced her to ectoplasmic goop in the past.
> 
> As for Vlad, yeah… He's not really planning to survive the coming battle. He figured coming back to Earth when Ammit was coming was a suicidal move and just because they have a plan doesn't mean he's that hopeful about his chances. It isn't like he has much to live for anymore. He destroyed everything with his actions at the end of "Phantom Planet." So he's resigned to the idea of going out in a blaze of glory making sure the Fenton family is safe to make up for some of the damage he caused.
> 
> And behold Tucker demonstrating exactly why someone in high school is able to be mayor of the most haunted city in the world. Through the use of various preparations, careful planning, and technology, he can get ready for the coming storm.


	11. Therapy Sessions

It wasn't easy being the one who considered everyone's feelings and mental states. Being a therapist wasn't for the faint of heart. Especially since she was trying to help ghosts with self-esteem issues, a ghost-hunter with anger and trust problems, a clone girl with a history of being emotionally-manipulated, and other assorted specters and obsessive personalities. Jazz momentarily reconsidered her self-appointed task. It was a bit overwhelming to face so many problems at once and she wasn't technically trained for this job. For all she knew, she could be making things worse. But Jazz once more shoved those thoughts aside and focused on what she needed to do.

The red-head waited until Danny and Sam disappeared upstairs somewhere. Tucker was already somewhere with Technus and her parents were focused back on the growing pile of half-finished diagrams, formulas, and theoretical concepts that would eventually become a weapon. The only ones she would have to handle were the friendly ghosts of Poindexter and Dora and the couple with clear relationship issues, but they didn't worry her. A quiet word to the black-and-white specter and he easily agreed to go upstairs. He and the princess would wait invisibly in the living room, far enough to offer the illusion of privacy while being close enough to quell any problems her family might raise later about being alone with a dangerous enemy. She wasn't particularly worried, but it never hurt to be cautious and it would keep her little brother from freaking out too much.

With her preparations completed, Jazz headed over to the hunter and said, "Skulker, I know Danny asked you to keep an eye on Vlad, but I'm going to borrow him for a little while."

"And why would you want to do that?" the large ghost asked, glaring at the girl like she was a particularly small prey animal.

Not even reacting to the attempt to be intimidating, she explained, "He's part human and probably hasn't eaten in months. I think he's overdue a meal and most people prefer to eat _without_ the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter looming over them. I can handle the guy for a little while. Besides, you can use this time for some bonding and open communication with your girlfriend."

"But I was rather enjoying my task," he remarked. "While not as entertaining as hunting down prey, it is still rewarding."

"Glad to know spending time with me is _so_ boring," sneered Ember. "You'd rather stare at some old guy than talk to me when given the chance."

"You're twisting my words again, woman," he growled. "That is not what I meant and you know it."

"Then start thinking before you speak," she snapped back. "Because you're really bad at this whole relationship thing. You'd almost think you wanted out of it so you'd have more time to chase around Phantom."

"I never said that and you know it."

"But you were definitely thinking it. Admit it!"

"Well _now_ I am since you're talking about it. At least the whelp is more reasonable and less crazy than you."

As much as watching the couple explode at each other made her want to intervene, Jazz had to admit it would keep the pair busy. The teenager grabbed Vlad's arm and pulled him along, managing to get him halfway up the stairs before he seemed to realize how undignified it was to be dragged behind her like that. At that point, he yanked free of her grip. He did, however, follow her the rest of the way to the kitchen.

"My first meal in months," he remarked dryly, staring at the food she set in front of him. "Somehow I didn't imagine it would be cold Nasty burgers and soggy fries."

"I could warm up some leftovers, but you'd be better off with the take-out," she replied, sitting across from him at the table. "It's safer. Especially since I don't remember if Mom and Dad have been inventing anything in the kitchen lately."

"I'll take your word on it," he said before gingerly taking a bite.

Just as she tried to put the Box Ghost at ease earlier, she attempted to do the same to him by commenting casually, "I'm surprised you were able to remain in space without food, water, or even air for so long. I don't think Danny could do that."

"Well, Daniel might be a talented and skilled boy, but he's also relatively new and young when it comes to his abilities," he said, the faintest hints of pride finally returning to his voice. "I, on the other hand, have been exploring and developing my powers for almost half my life. There are a few tricks he probably won't perfect for a decade, regardless of how quickly he can learn. In the right circumstances and with enough focus, several necessities for the human body can be… ignored by the ghost half temporarily. I've never tried it for so long before and I wouldn't recommend it if there was a chance that he would need to do anything else with his powers at the same time. He'd exhaust himself quickly that way, but it is still a useful way to endure harsh conditions without suffering. There is the side effect of feeling… awkward upon turning back human, but that sensation passes quickly."

"That's certainly an interesting use of your powers," she smiled encouragingly. "How did you learn that particular skill?"

Vlad shook his head disapprovingly. Of course he'd realized what she'd been doing. He was a master manipulator. He'd been doing it for years. Jazz knew she should have expected him to recognize someone else trying to do the same thing. Yes, she'd been trying to manipulate him into a more comfortable mindset, but he wasn't one to make that task easy. He wouldn't let someone affect his behavior against his desires. So she'd just have to more direct for the moment.

"What exactly do you want, Jasmine?" he asked bluntly.

"I want to help you."

That answer made the man blink in surprise. Good. Keeping him off-balanced might make him more honest. He'd lied to everyone for years. He'd lied about everything, using it as another tool of manipulation. Ironically, he was the most honest and open with Danny, the person who trusted him the least.

"I want to help you," Jazz repeated. "And you're going to let me."

There was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes as he said, "So you intend to act as my therapist. I shouldn't be surprised since your brother did enjoy mocking my mental health so much at one point." Then that brief fire of emotion in his face dimmed back down and until only regret and resignation remained. Quietly, he asked, "Why are you even bothering, Jasmine?"

"Because I'm the only person on your side at the moment," she answered plainly. "Out of everyone in the family, you did the least amount of direct damage to me. The other ghosts don't respect you in the same way they do Danny and you can't bribe them. Valerie hates you. And Danielle needs to stay away from you for both of your sakes. If you want any form of redemption and forgiveness, I'm your only ally towards that goal."

"That implies I have a chance of finding redemption," he said. "I am quite aware that my crimes, both against your family and in general, are too numerous and grave to be truly forgiven. Any attempt I might make at turning over a new leaf and leading a better life is doomed from the start. I know that and accept it."

"If you truly didn't think there was a chance, then why did you come back?"

"The silence and isolation of space offers the perfect opportunity to reflect on your life. Even years of hatred, obsession, and denial can only stand up to that level of loneliness for so long before you begin to accept responsibility for what you've done and regret your past sins. I was insane, Jasmine. Especially near the end, when I lost sight of even my selfish goals. But I can now see myself a bit more objectively and I can fully comprehend how much I've destroyed in the pursuit of an impossible dream. But I also gained insight into what is truly important. And what was important was… keeping the people I still care about safe, no matter how much they hate me." He noticed Jazz's expression and clarified, "Don't worry. I have no plans to go after your mother anymore. She's happier without me and I don't deserve her. But I refuse to let her be killed by Ammit if there is even a chance I can prevent it. And that goes for the rest of you as well. I have enough on my conscience already."

Jazz could see why Danny let the man stay. He sounded like he was a changed man. On the other hand, Vlad _did_ manage to avoid suspicion for years and knew how to play a role. There was still a possibility that he was lying, but she doubted it. There was something about his body language and tone that seemed too honest and exposed for that. There was too much regret and guilt for it to be completely an act. He might not be sharing everything, but what he _was_ sharing was probably true.

"So you came back to help us because you still care," she said. "There are worse reasons to act. You're not completely irredeemable."

There was a confused frown on the man's face. He stared at the teenage girl, apparently searching for answers.

"Why is it, Jasmine, that you seem to believe there is something worth saving? No one else does."

"That's not true. Danny knows you have the ability to change. At least, theoretically," she responded quickly.

Here was the problem. Jazz knew more about her brother's past activities than her parents. Even after they accepted his semi-ghostly state, he hadn't told them everything. But Jazz knew a lot. Maybe not everything since Danielle was a surprised. And maybe not as much as Sam and Tucker. But she knew enough. Between her involvement in their later battles and her continued role as therapist/supportive older sister, he'd shared plenty of details. Jazz kept his secrets for the most part.

So did what she was considering sharing count as part of doctor/patient confidentiality or trust between siblings? Or was it something that she could talk about if necessary? It was an important question and she wasn't sure about the right answer.

After careful consideration, Jazz decided the man needed to know what she knew. Besides, she would be talking about alternate timelines. Surely they were close enough to being only theoretical possibilities that they didn't count as breaking Danny's trust. That's the thing about alternate timelines. They never actually happened after all.

"You probably heard someone mention that Danny talked to Clockwork about what's happening, right? Do you know who that is?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, I know who that is," he nodded. "I've never encountered him, but I heard stories about him over time. I'm curious how Daniel came to be allies with someone so powerful."

"Clockwork was supposed to kill Danny, but decided to find another way," she stated bluntly. When Vlad's eyes widened slightly in surprise, Jazz explained, "There was a timeline where circumstances apparently killed everyone Danny cared about. Me, Mom, Dad, Sam, and Tucker. And Mr. Lancer died too. Anyway, he went to you because he had no one else to turn to, no one else who would understand. Long story short? He asked you to yank out his ghost half because he was so miserable and you did it. And things got worse. You were left powerless while a twisted and evil version of my brother spent about a decade destroying everything in both worlds. He was a monster."

Jazz glanced around the kitchen briefly as she tried to banish the memory of that older and darker Danny. She barely encountered him before history changed to something brighter, but it was enough to leave an impression. She'd heard even more from those who traveled to that horrible future. She knew that Danny sometimes had nightmares of his evil version, though they weren't as bad or as often as in the past.

"Danny went to that future. Clockwork arranged it to stop it from happening in the first place as part of a complicated plan, but no one realized it until later. But Danny got stuck there for a while and you helped him. The future you. He said that you weren't crazy or evil in that future. Just broken and remorseful. Sort of like you are now. That might even be why Danny said you could stay. It might not just be Clockwork's advice, but because he actually thinks you might deserve to be here. You have the potential to change and, at least in one future, you did."

"I suppose that's a small comfort," he said quietly.

"Of course, Danny also saw another timeline where you married Mom and everyone was miserable while you were still semi-crazy even without ghost powers," Jazz admitted. "So I can understand why he's still a little hesitant to blindly trust that you've truly changed. Especially now that Danielle's around. Regardless of anything else, you're not good for her. Between the emotional manipulation that is still affecting her and you trying to kill her, you're the definition of an abusive parent." She saw him grimace at the description, but he didn't deny her words. Carefully, she said, "But none of this changes the present situation. You came back to help and even the people with the greatest reasons not to trust you are willing to work with you. This gives you the chance to show them you want to change."

"I doubt one good deed will erase decades of cruel selfishness and violence," he stated tiredly.

"That's quitter talk and there are no quitters on Team Phantom," she declared firmly. "And one good deed is just the start. After Ammit is stopped, you'll have plenty of opportunities to make things right. It'll be a lot of work, but you can do it."

Vlad chuckled sadly, "I appreciate the confidence, Jasmine. I truly do. You have certainly grown up to be a brilliant and kind-hearted young lady. It was truly a mistake to disregard you as unimportant in my plans. Or perhaps it was best that I left you alone for the most part. But you still don't understand." He stared down at the remaining fast food, looking weary and worn out. "When I chose to return, I did not know there was an intelligent and effective plan to handle Ammit's awakening. I returned fully expecting to be destroyed in the attempt to protect your family. And I have no problem with that fate. After all, as Danny already pointed out, I've lost or destroyed everything else. I have nothing left to live for beyond this last battle. Regardless of whether we succeed or fail, there will likely not be an 'afterwards' for me."

The man met the horrified girl's gaze, completely calm about his apparent desire to die in the fight. Jazz couldn't believe it. True, the man's life was in ruins. There was nothing that remained of Vlad's old life. And he had almost no one who cared about him. He had nothing left. But even with the knowledge of what he was going through, the red-head teen never imagined he'd consider the idea of giving up on life. There was just something wrong with the mental image.

"You know suicide never solves anything," a quiet voice interrupted.

Jazz turned to find Poindexter floating near the entrance to the kitchen, Princess Dora a short distance behind him. Both looked suitably uncomfortable at being caught eavesdropping, but the monochromatic ghost also looked stubbornly determined to make his opinion known. And since Jazz knew the urban legend about a certain locker like any other student of Casper High, she could guess why he'd feel compelled to speak.

"Trust me, any problem in your life can be endured or fixed. No matter how bad it seems, things have to get better eventually. Death doesn't help," he continued awkwardly, shrugging. "It certainly didn't make things better for me."

Standing up from the table and straightening his jacket slightly, Vlad responded, "I do not intend to simply kill myself. That's a far more selfish and cowardly decision and I am trying not to be that person anymore. It wouldn't help anyone and would leave the remaining people with less protection. But I doubt everyone will escape Ammit unscathed and if anyone should be destroyed by him, it would be best if it was me." He glanced back towards Jazz and smiled sadly, "Thank you for trying to help an old man to repair his life. Your belief that it would be possible is a kindness I didn't expect, regardless of whether you are honest or not. But it is too late for me to do anymore than perform one selfless act. I've lost everything else with my actions. Losing my life will simply complete the job." Turning towards the living room, he added, "If you'll excuse me, we have a long day ahead of us. It might be wise to sleep a few hours while there is a chance."

He left the room and Jazz simply stared at his empty chair for a few minutes in silence. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to help. She wanted to lock the man up until he could receive plenty of therapy for his obvious issues. He'd gone from obsessive and elite narcissism to depression extreme enough for the man to lose the will to live. He needed serious and professional help. He needed a real therapist and at least months of treatment. Jazz wished she could give him the help he needed to turn his life around. Even after everything he'd done, Vlad deserved a real second chance. Everyone deserved that one.

But that wouldn't happen. Ammit would be arriving in hours and they needed all the help they could find. That meant the borderline suicidal halfa would have to fight, even if it meant he'd try to kill himself in the attempt. They just didn't have a lot options.

"That was a real bring down," commented Poindexter.

Dora asked, "What are we going to do about him? From what I've heard of his past, he has performed many deplorable acts. But he is also our ally for the moment. Should something not be done to keep him from doing something drastic?"

Jazz wanted to tell someone what was wrong. But her parents were still too angry with Vlad. And Danny already had enough to worry about. She couldn't stand the idea of adding to her little brother's burden. There was no one she could turn to for advice or help in regards to the man. She was on her own and she'd reached the limits of what she could do.

"As bad as it sounds, I can't do much more. He can only be helped if he wants to be," she admitted. "All I think we can do is keep an eye on him and hope something I said to him will help."

* * *

Even with the lights of Amity Park, he could make out some stars overhead. They seemed so peaceful, twinkling overhead. Danny wished he could pretend the world was truly that peaceful as he perched on the roof of Fenton Ops Center with his girlfriend. He wanted to pretend it was just a particularly late date, the burger wrappers and leftover salad not far away serving to enhance the illusion. But he knew that this was merely the calm before the storm.

His house was filled with his enemies, his parents were building a lethal ghost explosion, and he was somehow supposed to be in charge of everyone. Granted, Tucker and Jazz were doing their best to handle some of the problems before Danny had to. He wasn't even sure what his best friend was doing, but he trusted that Tucker would have some good ideas. And whatever Jazz did earlier was apparently keeping the Box Ghost out of the way. But it still felt like a huge responsibility. So far, he just needed to play referee a little.

But he'd be leading a mini-army into battle against a powerful specter in a few hours and they were depending on him. Not just depending, but _trusting_ him. Ghosts who fought him regularly and his family alike were trusting his ability to lead them against Ammit. Did they know what they were asking? The ghosts knew stories about Ammit, but none of them had seen what Danny saw at Clockwork's lair. They hadn't seen the shadow-cloaked specter fighting Pariah easily and nearly destroying him. Someone would almost certainly die. And it would be his fault.

"No, it won't be," Sam said suddenly.

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was talking out loud," he frowned.

Snuggling a little closer to her boyfriend, she remarked a practical tone, "Don't think like that, Danny. Everyone will be destroyed if Ammit isn't stopped. And we all know that. This is the only way to keep that from happening. Everyone here understands the risk and we want to help anyway. We also know that you tend to win, even against someone stronger than you. So I'm pretty sure we'll be all right."

"And if we fail?"

"Then we die. Along with everyone on Earth and in the Ghost Zone."

"So no pressure," he muttered.

Sam's hand abruptly smacked the back of his head, "Don't be like that. Yeah, there's pressure. But you faced King Pariah. You managed to save Earth from the Dis-asteroid. You even survived my parents when they found out I'm dating someone half-ghost."

That managed to evoke a small smile, but did little to relieve his anxiety. He knew part of his fear was the remaining sensation that Ammit's awakening caused. The rest, however, was purely the work of his mind going over and over the horrible things that could go wrong.

"What if," he said slowly, not wanting to admit his fears and yet the habit of sharing everything with her over the course of his ghost-fighting career compelled him, "Ammit kills my parents? Or Jazz? Or you? Or Tucker and Danielle? Or Valerie? Or even someone like Sidney Poindexter or Skulker? How will I live with myself if that happens?"

"By remembering that the alternative would be for all of us to die," she answered simply. "But that won't happen."

"How do you know?" he asked.

Sam quickly answered with a kiss that definitely distracted his thoughts away from Ammit and impending disaster. Of course that was probably her intention, but Danny didn't mind that much. Kissing Sam was definitely a nice perk to dating her. Way better than their past Fake-Out-Make-Outs.

When she eventually pulled away, she smiled, "I know because I believe in you. If anyone could make this work, it would be you."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Plus, we've got a pretty good track record at handling world-threatening disasters. If you can trust us to handle our jobs, we'll trust you to do yours. We're not helpless, Danny. And I'm not the damsel in distress like Paulina."

He smiled wryly, "You're never going to stop hating her, are you?"

"The day she's useful to rest of society is the day I eat bacon."

* * *

"Your aim is so bad, I'm surprised you aren't cross-eyed," snarled Ember.

"Your lyrics are unimaginative and redundant," Skulker snapped back.

"I can't believe that anyone calls you the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter since you can't even notice the most obvious clues. Shouldn't you be more observant? Kind of come with the job," she sneered practically in his face.

"And you should be able to hit a high note without our voice cracking," he shouted, not backing down.

"Take that back."

"Ladies first."

"I still can't believe I ever bothered talking to you that first time in the thermos."

"Considering your behavior, I'm surprised myself."

"I hope you never catch anything on a hunt ever again."

"And I hope no one shows up at your next concert," he said.

That was it. Her patience with Skulker was officially gone for the moment. Ember glared at her infuriating boyfriend, part of her wanting to break it off permanently. She should say it. She should tell him that they were over. It was the smartest thing to do. That way she would never be hurt. But she couldn't do it. And he was too stubborn to take the bait and end the relationship himself. It was frustrating.

"Drop dead," she growled before vanishing through the ceiling.

He wouldn't follow her. The first time she stormed off in anger, he tried. A few harsh chords on her guitar quickly taught him the error of his ways. Now he knew better. It was safer for the fire-haired idiot to stay away until she cooled down.

"Of all the arrogant, insensitive, absolute _morons_ ," she snarled as she phased into a darkened room.

"Ember?" a drowsy and confused voice remarked, drawing her attention to the fact she was apparently in the red-head's bedroom.

The red-head, Phantom's sister, was sitting up from her bed. The fact she was rubbing her eyes suggested she'd been sleeping before Ember's arrival. The black-haired girlfriend of Phantom, Sam, was camped out on the floor in a sleeping bag. Ghosts could go a while without sleep, but humans needed plenty of rest. Especially if they were supposed to be at their best in the morning. So disturbing the people who were supposed to help against Ammit was probably a dumb idea.

"Sorry," she muttered darkly. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Wait," the girl called as Ember prepared to phase out of the room. "More trouble with Skulker?"

"Duh," she snarled, keeping her voice down to avoid waking up the sleeping figure in the room. "He's an idiot."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't need that stupid couple's counseling thing," she snapped.

"Fine. But don't girls usually complain about the boys in their lives and the things they do that annoys us?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

That idea wasn't completely horrible and it would feel nice to vent a little. The last time she was able to properly complain about what a doofus he was to anyone was when she met up with Kitty and Spectra. Of course, that particular meeting ended up as an attempt to eliminate all idiotic males from the world only to be stopped by the remaining ghost-hunting females, but just complaining about Skulker would work too. Ember nodded her head slightly at the red-head.

"Jazz, right?" When the girl nodded, the ghost said, "All right then. I'll tell you _exactly_ what's wrong with Skulker."

* * *

Infuriating woman! Skulker would love to find some small and helpless prey to blast to oblivion, but now was not the time to go on a hunt. Not only would the whelp be displeased by those actions during this alliance, but there was also the knowledge that Ammit's awakening would have driven all other ghosts to ground. There was literally nothing worthwhile to hunt. All he could do was glower in the corner as the two human scientists worked.

How dare she? Why did she always insult his hunting skills? Yes, he would belittle her music, but only when she started it. He was actually quite fond of her singing, though he wouldn't admit that out loud. But when she lashed out at him for no reason, he had no choice except to meet the challenge with either similar attacks or a clear demonstration of his skills. And since catching the Ghost Child was proving difficult, he was stuck in a yelling contest whenever she let her temper flare. And neither of them could simply surrender. It wasn't in their natures.

Skulker wasn't the result of a human's demise. He rose out of the ectoplasm of the Ghost Zone, small and simple in the beginning. His earliest memories were not of an unremarkable human's life. They were of similarly new and weak specters being destroyed by larger and smarter ghosts for pure entertainment. Even during those days where he was guided by instinct rather than cunning and experience, Skulker learned the most important lesson of his existence by observing the slaughter of the helpless and puny ghosts so similar to himself. You could be the hunted or you could be the hunter. And he chose to be the greatest of all the hunters.

The ghost stared down at the metal arms crossed in front of his chest. It was easy for him to forget sometimes that the large and powerful body wasn't actually him. The metal suit was designed to respond like his real body, connected to his mind so closely that anything that happened to the mechanical body would affect his smaller form inside. He'd wanted the larger shape to truly be the real Skulker rather than the pathetic and tiny ghost. He never let anyone know the truth if he could help it. He'd stolen, traded, and built the required parts for the original version of his body, never trusting another ghost with the knowledge that the skilled hunter was essentially a weakling in a tin can.

True, the Ghost Child and his companions discovered his secret. But they were keeping it silent apparently. Lucky for them. Otherwise he'd have to slice their tongues out. And Ember would never find out that he wasn't just a mechanical ghost. He'd never let her know the truth. He could survive anyone else learning his secret, no matter the amount of ridicule for his size he might receive. But if she ever found out or, even worse, saw the real him…

She was infuriating, sharp-tongued, rebellious, and seemed to alternate between mocking his skills as a hunter and finding insult in the most innocent of phrases, but she was also strong-willed, a skilled musician, and simply unlike anyone else in the entire Ghost Zone. He'd known that she was unique from the moment they met, trapped in that thermos together. And he'd known that he would do anything to win her over.

He'd approached it the same way he did everything: as if he was hunting down a valuable target. He was stubborn and unrelenting, not letting anything stop him from reaching his goal. She never made it easy, but that only made her worth the effort. And unlike a normal hunt, it did not end when he caught her. A relationship was like a never-ending hunt as he sought to keep her, no matter how much she lashed out and tried to find insult in his words. For some reason, he always seemed to say the wrong thing and Ember would explode in his face.

That was the problem. He wasn't great with words unless it was threatening the Ghost Child or making promises of future violence. He couldn't express himself properly by talking. Not to her. Emotions like anger, frustration, and annoyance could be demonstrated easily enough, but he couldn't say the right thing otherwise.

And didn't they say something about actions speaking louder than words? Why couldn't that irritating woman understand? He always attended her concerts that she'd put on in the Ghost Zone, he invited her along for target practice, and he promised her the head of the Ghost Child. Did she not understand how important that was? Offering her a prize such as the whelp's severed head was a huge gesture for a skilled hunter such as himself.

It was so frustrated to have her shout and insult him about everything when he wanted her to recognize the true meaning of his actions. He didn't know how else to express himself but through hunting and his skills as a hunter. The only way he knew how to prove his worth to her, to make her see what he was offering, was by being the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter, but she just mocked his efforts and demonstrated the untamable temper that both infuriated and intrigued.

Skulker turned his eyes to the ceiling. Somewhere above him in the house, the Ghost Child slumbered. Though it obviously took the whelp a long time, he'd finally ended up with the girl who always stood beside him in battle. They were together and happy, clearly certain of the other one's intentions. And for a moment, the hunter was jealous of his usual prey.

No, the Ghost Child was _not_ better than he. Skulker knew the whelp was strong and cunning, but he was _not_ better than the hunter. If the Ghost Child could manage to convey his meaning to his girl, then Skulker could surely manage the same thing.

Once Ammit was defeated, he would find a way to make Ember understand. He wouldn't stop until he made himself perfectly clear, either with actions or words. He didn't know how, but he would.

With that decision made, the ghost turned his gaze back down to the rest of the basement as he watched the humans work. As he observed the pair, Skulker contemplated the different possible ways he could let Ember know he loved her with all his heart.

* * *

She was exhausted. Jazz wanted to go to sleep more than anything else. She didn't dare look at the clock because she knew she wouldn't like to know the time. It would only make her feel even more tired. But she couldn't go back to sleep yet. Sometimes helping people meant suffering a little.

Ember needed this. She could tell right away that the rock star ghost needed to vent about her frustration and annoyance with her boyfriend. And it was definitely better to let her complain about him now rather than risk them exploding at each other during the middle of a crisis later. Even if Jazz knew she wasn't an expert in relationships, she knew that Ember needed a little help addressing hers and it would be best to deal with it sooner rather than wait.

…Though if she complained about Skulker's obsession with hunting again, the red-head might actually fall back asleep on accident.

"I just want to strangle him sometimes," the musician ranted. "Or at least disable all his weaponry for a few days. That would probably drive him crazy. He never stops talking about hunting. He treats his newest upgraded weapons like he's a five year old child with a new toy."

"I know he can seem like an immature idiot at times," Jazz remarked carefully. "Guys can be like that. Especially when they're… How old _are_ you two?"

"Skulker? Who knows," smirked the ghost. "He could be two, twenty, or two hundred, though I'd guess he's no older than sixty years since there weren't a lot of mechanical-type ghosts before that point. As for my age, that's a bit more complicated."

"How so?"

"Easy, Red," she shrugged, perching herself on the edge of the bed. "Physically, I'm based on some dumb seventeen year old girl. But chronologically, I'm from the seventies and could have settled down with a brain-dead husband, a couple of kids, and a dog by now if I was human. So I figure that mentally and emotionally, I would be between sixteen and twenty-one." Twirling her guitar pick between her fingers, Ember said, "Age isn't everything when it comes to ghosts. It's just a number. Your brother is practically a baby by our standards, but that doesn't change the fact he looks, acts, and thinks like a teen. So don't worry about it too much."

Well, that actually simplified things a little. While there was nothing wrong with people of different ages falling for each other, Jazz wasn't exactly comfortable with a teenage girl dating a large and aggressive guy who could be in his upper twenties or thirties since that sounded like a recipe for disaster. Of course, the rock star wasn't exactly helpless and definitely wouldn't let her boyfriend push her around. Still, it was easier if the age issues weren't really issues for ghosts.

Something Ember said, however, did catch the tired teen's attention.

"You mentioned being based on a teenager. Did she have boy troubles too?"

And Jazz abruptly found herself at the receiving end of a death glare from a dead person. The glowing green eyes were a little more intimidating coming from someone other than Danny. But there was more than pure fury and anger in the merciless gaze. There was also past pain and a hint of fear mixed in. As much as the harsh look intimidated the red-head, it also provided a few hints that could be useful.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to touch a nerve like that," Jazz squeaked, eyeing the guitar pick carefully in case she needed to dive for cover. "I'm just trying to understand. Honest, I just want to help."

The glare remained in place for a moment more before Ember jerked her head away. The red-head teen mentally sighed in relief. She was treading into dangerous topics apparently. But her instincts told her that this was the key to the issues between Ember and Skulker. She needed to proceed, even if there was clearly an old wound present.

Trying to keep her voice calm and nonjudgmental, Jazz prompted, "Could you tell me what happened?"

Not looking at her audience as she glared into the darkness, the ghost shrugged, "What's to tell? A dumb girl falls for a guy, gets invited for a date with someone she really likes, gets stood up and is too much of a doofus to realize it, stays up all night while her heart breaks, crawls home like a beaten dog and dies. Not much of a story, Red. Just a chump who should have known better."

"That's awful," she said softly.

"She was an idiot."

"She was in love," stated Sam, sitting up in her borrowed sleeping bag as proof that the quiet conversation wasn't quiet enough. "People will do some rather dumb things when they're in love."

"Yeah, and get hurt in the process," grumbled Ember.

"Is that why you keep trying to drive Skulker away? Because you don't want to get hurt?" asked Jazz.

She turned her glare back towards the red-head, "No. I don't do that. He's just a doofus who keeps ticking me off."

Even dressed in her pajamas with her hair ruffled from her attempts to sleep, Jazz did her best to look professional as she said, "Not from what I've see. You're constantly looking for a fight and even when he says something relatively innocent, you act like he insulted you. Granted, he doesn't seem perfect, but you're definitely trying to start an argument with him."

"You want him to break up with you," Sam accused.

"I do not," the ghost snapped.

"Well, you're definitely trying your best to be mad at him. You're just scared to admit the truth," remarked Sam smugly.

"And what truth would that be?"

"That you actually like him. You don't want to tell Skulker that you actually care about him."

"I don't think you have any right to complain about my relationship," Ember sneered. "How long were you and the Ghost Boy dancing around each other? You waited so long that the _Box Ghost_ won the bet."

"But I do think you might have issues with the idea of loving someone," Jazz interrupted before things could get more out of hand. "If your first boyfriend or crush was a real jerk and his actions led to something as traumatic as death, I can understand your reluctance to form later relationships."

"That wasn't me. It was that doofus, Amber. I'm smarter than that girl. I refuse to make the same mistakes as her," she snapped. "You can't get your heart broken if you don't give it to someone else. Love and all that garbage will just get you hurt."

"Are you trying to convince us or yourself?" asked Sam. "Yeah, you won't get your heart broken that way, but you'll also be miserable and alone. I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like the best way to live."

The musician ghost didn't look particularly impressed by the Goth girl's advice, but she hadn't left the room yet. Jazz considered that a minor victory. Maybe she was actually listening to what they were saying.

"Besides, I think it's a little too late to avoid caring about him," Sam continued. "And I'm pretty sure I can prove it."

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try, dork."

"Try imagining your life without him. And if you can't…"

The younger girl's voice trailed off. Jazz smiled briefly at her brother's girlfriend, rather pleased with her explanation. Ember's eyes narrowed for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.

Then, without a word, the ghost vanished through the ceiling and left the two girls alone.


	12. Breakfast

He stared at the specter, vaguely surprised that the white ghost was still alive. Of course, he'd been careful after slaughtering most of his followers within a few minutes. This one, his name Walker apparently, was a little more difficult to crack.

Ammit held the pale ghost suspended, the shadowy tendrils stretching out his limbs with the pressure barely under the amount needed to rip him in half. Another, one of the jailers for the prison, was similarly strung up and at Ammit's mercy. But while the green-skinned specter dangled there with no hope or spirit left, Walker glared back in defiance. And that fire and stubbornness was the reason that he still lived. Sometimes a more interesting ghost needed to be killed more slowly. Besides, Ammit had a few questions and he might as well ask them while he had the opportunity.

Of course, the white-faced specter was proving rather quiet. Beyond his name and a few comments about rule-breakers, he refused to speak. No matter how much Ammit inflicted pain on him or how closely he came to dissolving into ectoplasm under the ancient ghost's questioning, Walker refused to break. While his combat skills and power left much to be desired when it came to a proper opponent, his spirit was unbreakable and Ammit found that entertaining in its own way.

And that was why he left the underling alive. Pain could be a useful motivator, but so could fear. After watching his superior suffer for hours at the hands of Ammit and with the knowledge that he was not strong enough to survive, the guard might be more willing to speak when asked. Of course, the only reward he would receive for his information would be a swift demise, but it was certainly a more appealing option than the one he would soon witness Walker suffering.

"I grow weary of this," Ammit stated, glaring down at the trapped ghost. "Tell me, where can I find an opponent worthy of my power? Who is the strongest ghost?"

Ammit knew that Walker would be in pain and exhausted. He'd tortured and killed thousands of ghosts over the course of his existence. He knew how to push a specter to the brink of destruction, barely keeping themselves intact and weak from their suffering. He knew that it would barely take any effort to push him over the brink, dissolving him into ectoplasm like all of Walker's followers. Ammit had done this before and had seen the results plenty of times. He knew exactly what to expect.

But even if he was in pain and dying, the stubborn and cocky expression never left the white ghost's face. Yes, he shuddered sometimes when the pain was too much to ignore and he was focusing all his attention on remaining alive. Yes, he was coughing occasionally and seemed to be struggling to keep his head upright. But he seemed intent on facing his destruction with dignity and to never bow to Ammit's will. And he never screamed. If his refusal to break wasn't mildly annoying, the ancient ghost might almost be a little impressed.

"Doesn't matter… but I'm sure… we can find… a nice cell for you… in my prison," Walker wheezed.

A taloned hand reached out of the shadows, the claw running down the length of the restrained specter. It would be so easy to just kill the poor, dying creature already. The entertainment value of this ghost was quickly waning. It might be easier to find answers from another specter. Or he could simply find a more interesting and powerful opponent by process of elimination.

Eliminate every ghost in existence until he found one that could actually provide a challenge.

Ammit shook his hand, trying to remove the ectoplasm from the tip of his claw. While killing someone slowly could be amusing at times, it was always so much messier to deal with. The ghost's white suit was already ruined from the prolonged questioning. Of course, the nice suit would be gone the moment he actually died, so it wouldn't matter for long.

"It is such a shame that you are so hopelessly stubborn," Ammit stated. "If you truly won't answer my simple question, then I have no reason to keep you a moment longer."

Several spikes formed out of darkness and pointed straight towards Walker's chest, perfectly position to end his suffering and dispose of Ammit's current distraction. Then, just as the ancient ghost had hoped, the green-faced guard decided to speak up in loyal defense of his superior.

"Wait," he said. "I know who you want."

"Silence," coughed Walker. "That's an order."

Ammit barely spared a moment to direct a tendril of darkness to wrap around the ghost's neck and mouth. If he refused to answer questions before, then he would have to remain silent now that someone was finally responding.

"There's a boy," the green-skinned guard said, not wanting to meet Ammit's gaze directly. "He's strong. Very strong. A lot of ghosts have fought him, but he's managed to survive. He even defeated King Pariah once."

Grinning at the memory of that fight, the ancient ghost had to admit that this opponent might have potential. Pariah Dark was indeed an interesting foe. Without the intervention of others and being trapped in slumber for at least thousands of years, Ammit could have continued that battle for a few more minutes before slaughtering the ghost.

"And where can I find this boy? Where does he lurk in the Ghost Zone?" he asked.

"He… He's not exactly a normal ghost. He's a halfa," stated the guard nervously.

"A _what_?"

"A halfa. He's half a ghost and half a human."

As Walker struggled weakly against the restraints, Ammit considered the implications of what the green-skinned specter was describing. Such a creature sounded impossible, but much had changed since he was forced to sleep. It would certainly make a unique opponent, perhaps a real challenge if he was lucky.

Ammit wondered briefly if a halfa would bleed red or green.

"Where then would I locate this… 'halfa' you speak of?"

Glancing briefly towards his superior, the guard asked, "If I tell you, will you release the warden and me?"

His glowing red eyes narrowed briefly, but the ancient ghost said, "If you direct me towards more interesting targets to destroy, then I shall have no further use for either of you."

The pale-faced ghost's eyes narrowed, but his follower didn't seem to notice the problem with Ammit's words. He actually looked almost hopeful. He certainly wasn't the brightest specter.

"He lives in the Human Realm, in a town called Amity Park," said the green-skinned ghost. "And it isn't a question of finding him. If you even appear in his hometown, he'll show up. He's made himself the protector of humans, especially in that town. His name is Danny Phantom."

"Danny Phantom," Ammit growled, considering it carefully.

Perhaps not the most threatening or impressive sounding name, but that rarely served as a true gauge of an opponent's strength. No, he wouldn't know for sure until he tried to destroy the boy. And even if the halfa proved to be less than ideal, he could always kill the population of that town. It had been so long since he last slaughter humans.

"That should be enough, right? You'll let us go?" asked the guard hopefully.

"I said that I would no longer need the two of you," he pointed out, causing a look of horrified understanding to spread across his green-faced captive. "I did not say I would release you."

The tendrils of shadows stabbed through the two trapped ghosts, causing them to collapse back into pure ectoplasm as if they'd never existed in the first place. The execution barely held Ammit's attention for a second. Instead, he pondered the simplest way to locate his new opponent. Entering the Human Realm normally required locating a portal, but those could be rather unpredictable. There would be no way for him to be certain he would find a useful one that led to the right spot.

Of course, Ammit also knew that brute strength could accomplish interesting results. Tearing a hole between the two dimensions was certainly possible, though it would take time and effort on his part. And if he didn't succeed in finding Amity Park on his first attempt, he could still kill whoever he did find.

As he prepared to begin the process of forcing his way into the Human Realm, a brief thought crossed his mind. Then, with a predatory grin, he sent several tendrils of darkness plunging into the prison. There were plenty of ghosts locked up and unable to escape. He might as well go ahead and slaughter them since they were present.

* * *

Danny woke up to the horrible smell of Tucker's feet.

The dark-haired boy rolled across the floor, trying to escape the stench. He gave his friend permission to sleep in his bed for the night while Danny camped out on the floor, but at some point Tucker must have started tossing and turning. Now the young mayor was half-buried under the blankets with one leg on the pillow and the other dangling out of the bed right above where Danny's head used to be. The smell would have wakened the dead.

Rubbing a hand through his hair, the halfa didn't even bother to glance at his clock. He'd definitely slept in. Of course, none of them planned to go to school anyway. Fate of the world and all that. And considering how late he'd been up and how hard it was to fall asleep in the first place, Danny felt he deserved a little extra time. But there was no way he'd drift back into unconsciousness now, so the teenager forced himself into a more vertical position.

Moving quietly so at least Tucker could rest a little longer, Danny changed out of his pajamas and slipped out the door. He considered stealing a shower while he had the chance and could actually enjoy all the hot water, but he decided to postpone it for the moment. The running water would definitely wake up Jazz and Sam. And while Sam was many things, a morning person wasn't one of them.

With a shower not a current option, Danny decided that his destination should be the kitchen. Not only could he see about what breakfast options were available for an entire house filled with people and ghosts, but he could also start up the coffee machine. He knew without a single doubt that his parents would still be in the basement working and would keep working until Ammit was defeated. They would definitely need the caffeine before the end of the day.

As he passed his parents' room, he noticed that while no one had claimed their bed, someone had still made use of the space during the night. Curled up against the wall in the corner, sleeping peacefully, appeared to be the least aggressive ghosts in his household. Danny never really wondered whether his enemies needed much sleep, but it was easier to imagine Dora and Poindexter taking a nap than it was someone like Skulker or Technus. The girl had a blanket draped over and her head had leaned over until it rested on the nerd's shoulder. Danny had a feeling that Poindexter placed the blanket over her after she fell asleep and that he was similarly asleep when she leaned on him. Of course, he also suspected neither would have minded the situation. Actually, it was kind of cute. Hopefully the black-and-white specter would tell her how he felt someday.

Walking down the stairs, Danny once again caught sight of a couple of slumbering figures. Perched on the edge of the chair, the ghost's head was propped up by his hand in the same way that the teenager tended to when he fell asleep in class. The amusing part was the fact it was _Skulker_ who was snoring softly, having apparently drifted off while performing guard duty.

The other one, the one Skulker fell asleep watching, was lying across couch with a green blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He looked utterly exhausted. And though it had been months since he had to deal with the man and he claimed to be trying to help, Danny felt the immature urge to draw on Vlad's face with a marker. Apparently the temptation to react that way to his worst enemy would always remain.

Shaking his head slightly at the scene, Danny finally made it to the kitchen. A quick look in the fridge proved that they definitely needed to go shopping for food. Poking around a little more, he managed to start the coffee machine and pour himself some cereal. By the time he'd finished half his bowl, the kitchen was filled with the scent of coffee. Even during his most sleep-deprived nights of ghost-fighting, Danny had never enjoyed the taste of it and preferred getting his caffeine in the form of soda. Still, there was something about the smell first thing in the morning that could perk anyone up.

Pouring coffee into a pair of mugs (both with Jack Fenton's face on it), Danny carried them towards the basement. At least down there, people were awake. His mom and dad were still working, their section of the basement completely covered in diagrams, schematics, equations, and other pieces of paper. The teen knew that if he tried to read any of their scribbles, he wouldn't understand even a third of it. But his parents were churning them out at a very impressive speed, glancing between the various sheets to make sure that everything was correct.

"How's it coming?" he asked, setting down the mugs on the workstation.

"We're making progress," his mother said. "We have most of the details worked out, but there are a couple things to figure out."

Yawning briefly before taking a sip from the steaming mug, his father added, "Give us about a half hour. We should be ready to start building by then."

"Great," smiled Danny. "And Technus should help speed that part up." Glancing around briefly, he asked, "Where is Technus?"

"Tucker borrowed him for something," said his mother distractedly. "I think he's in the garage."

Memories of the technology ghost's first attack using the contents of that same garage were now dancing through Danny's head, but he forced himself not to assume the worst. Just because Technus was unsupervised didn't mean that he was creating some kind of mechanical disaster intended to terrorize the population. It could be absolutely harmless.

…Maybe he should check on Technus. Just in case.

Racing up the stairs, the teen managed to barrel his way towards the garage in the quietest way possible. He didn't even wake up Vlad and Skulker in the living room. Danny could barely appreciate the humor in the fact he was trying to let his enemies nap because he was too focused on whatever the technological ghost might be doing.

As he entered the garage, Danny's jaw dropped. What he found wasn't exactly what he'd imagined.

"Greetings, Phantom," greeted Technus loudly, looking rather proud of himself. "Behold—!"

"Quiet," he quickly interrupted. "A lot of people are still sleeping."

"Oh… Sorry," he grinned sheepishly. Then, in a quieter (though still loud) voice, Technus continued, "Behold, a command center worthy of the name. For any team that has I, Technus, Master of Technology, on it must also be suitably equipped and prepared for any issue. Isn't it radical?"

"What did you do to our RV?"

He shrugged, "The supplies Mr. Foley provided just weren't quite enough, so I had to improvise a little."

"A _little_? The whole thing is _gone_."

"I'll fix it after we're done," Technus said dismissively. "And check out what I made."

Danny had to admit, it _was_ impressive. Most of the garage was now take up by a large structure that looked like something from a mad scientist lab. There were dozens of screens mounted above a rather complicated-looking panel that included a keyboard, a few joysticks, some buttons with interesting labels, and some switches. The bottom-center computer screen was the only one turned on, showing numerous options for someone to choose from and yet Danny couldn't make sense of it. The others were currently turned off, but he suspected they'd be quite impressive once they were turned on. Oddly, it reminded the teen vaguely of Clockwork's collection of screens to different time periods.

"I also finished these little guys up," added the technological ghost, gesturing towards a table.

A quick look left the halfa surprised and pleased. In addition to what looked like several copies of the Fenton Phones, enough for everyone involved, were lots of cameras. Obviously not ordinary cameras, but their purpose was easy to identify. Attached to the camera base was a helicopter propeller-type thing that would make them mobile and a small speaker. No matter what his grades might say, Danny wasn't an idiot. He could figure out pretty quickly that the multiple screens would eventually show whatever the cameras filmed once they were turned on.

The crazy, technologically-obsessed ghost had provided all the tools necessary for surveillance and coordination between the various team members when the time came. It was the answer to several problems Danny hadn't even started worrying about. This project of Technus and Tucker's was absolutely perfect.

"I hate to say it," said the teen slowly, "but you're right. It is 'radical'."

He cringed slightly at saying the word, but he was rewarded by a surprisingly eager and happy grin from the ghost. Apparently he enjoyed being appreciated a little.

"Excellent," Technus said. "Of course, it is no surprise. Everything I create is funky fresh."

"Yeah, don't push it."

* * *

"So do you want pancakes for breakfast?" asked Valerie as the young girl rubbed her eyes from the doorway.

Shrugging, Danielle said, "Sure, I'll eat anything."

"Good. I don't like to brag, but I've been working on chocolate chip pancakes and I think I've almost perfected the recipe."

The girl was wearing one of Valerie's nightgowns she'd borrowed the night before. The teenager received it from a distant aunt at Christmas, the plaid pattern and lacy collar making it something that she'd shoved into the back of the drawer the instant she unwrapped it. She'd hated the thing, but now she was glad she'd kept it. Granted, it was huge on Danielle. But the girl didn't have much of a wardrobe anyway and it was relatively comfortable to sleep in.

Valerie had expected to make some excuses to her father when she brought the young girl home with her the night before. When she got back, however, she found a message on the answering machine with him apologizing that they were getting some weird signals and things at Axion and he didn't know when he'd returned. So that handled one issue and they even ended up with a spare bed for her guest.

"I've never had chocolate chip pancakes," remarked Danielle, scrambling into one the chairs.

Smirking at the girl, she said, "Well, then you've never lived. Even the most weight-sensitive, appearance-obsessed teenage girl in the world can't resist them."

"Awesome," she smiled.

For a few minutes, the kitchen was silent beyond the sound of the batter being mixed and a slight sizzle as the first pancake was poured on the skillet. It was kind of peaceful. Valerie knew she didn't seem like the type of person who liked or even knew how to cook. Before she was too shallow and now she was too focused. But she grew up with a busy and single father, so she had to learn. And certain parts of it were fun. Not all of them, but some. She liked to make pancakes, certain types of pies, and even one particular chicken recipe she'd discovered. She didn't exactly go around advertising her minor kitchen skills, but Valerie wasn't ashamed either. There were no rules that said she couldn't both cook and still be an amazing ghost hunter.

As she flipped the pancake, Valerie gave Danielle a questioning look. If the girl had spent her whole life either with Vlad or wandering the world on her own, the teenager doubted she'd ever attempted something so ordinary and domestic. She was a clone who was only a few months old apparently. Her life never had all the normal things that people take for granted. Pancakes, sleepovers, birthday parties, vacations to the beach, going to the park to play in the sandbox growing up, and even something as basic as going to school were all things that she missed out on in her short life so far. She deserved the chance to start taking enjoying the simple things in life.

Besides, it would be a nice distraction from that Ammit guy. And they both needed that distraction.

"Want to try?" asked Valerie.

"Really?" Danielle blinked in surprise.

"Really," she grinned. "Come over here and give it a shot."

Rolling up her sleeves, she hopped back off the chair and dashed over to the stove. Taking procession of the spatula, the halfa stared at the round shape with intense focus. If this particular pancake was ruined, it certainly wouldn't be from a lack of attention.

"What do I do?" asked the girl.

"See the bubbles starting to form in the batter? When they're all over the surface, you flip it," Valerie explained. "All you do is slid the spatula underneath and flip it in one motion so it doesn't break in half."

She nodded carefully, never taking her eyes off the cooking pancake. The instant that there were enough bubbles, the girl reacted perfectly. The movement was confident and smooth, the young halfa acting as if she'd been making pancakes for years. Valerie smiled at the girl in response.

"So how do you know when that side is done? You can't see bubbles where it's already cooked," pointed out Danielle.

"You kind of have to just guess on this side," she admitted. "It takes a little practice, but you can take a look by prying up part of it with the spatula."

Nodding, the girl said, "Got it." Still watching the pancake carefully, Danielle asked, "Did your mom teach you how to do this?"

With only brief hesitation, Valerie admitted, "My mom died when I was a little girl."

"Sorry," apologized the girl.

"It's all right. I barely knew her. I can't miss what I never really remember having."

Taking the pancake off the heat and placing it on the waiting plate, Danielle mumbled, "Yes, you can."

Valerie definitely didn't want the girl to start dwelling on more depressing topics. She'd had a rough evening and they would have enough problems in the near future with Ammit. She could at least keep the younger girl's mind on something more cheerful. Or at least less heart-breaking.

"How does this sound? After breakfast, you take a shower. You can use my shampoo and everything. When you get out, I'll show you all my ghost-hunting equipment."

That sparked a small gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"Even the hover board?"

"You can fly."

"So? That thing is still cool."

Chuckling slightly, Valerie nodded, "Sure thing."

* * *

Thanks to the Dis-asteroid, the last few months had brought many changes and adjustments to people's views of the world. And even if these events caused ripples across the globe, the biggest impacts were centered on Amity Park. That was to be expected since it was practically the most haunted location on Earth and the home of the now-world-famous Danny Phantom.

Who was also known as Danny Fentur— _Danny Fenton_.

Dash forced himself to mentally correct himself every single time he thought about his classmate's name. After spending so long insulting and bullying the teen, it was hard to adapt his thoughts. At least he'd reached the point where he could say his name out-loud the right way. Before, he wouldn't care. Now that he knew who he was dealing with, the football player couldn't even think of insulting the boy.

Tapping his pencil against his notebook as his teacher droned on about something boring, Dash couldn't stop his thoughts from twisting around the familiar topic again. He couldn't believe it. The skinny kid he used to always stuff into a locker or threaten to beat up was the local hero. Danny could have thrown him through a wall probably with no effort. Or blasted him with one of those ghost rays. But instead of taking out some violent revenge against those who bullied him at school, Danny Phantom always saved them from danger.

Dash bullied Fenton. A lot. And Phantom saved him. A lot. And since Phantom and Fenton was the same guy… Well, it certainly proved Danny was the better person.

He couldn't treat Fenton the same way as before. Not only was it incredibly stupid to try and mess with someone he knew to have superpowers, but it wasn't right. He couldn't bully the local hero. He wasn't the nicest person in the world, but Dash wasn't _that_ evil. But it was more than that. The football player didn't just want to stop. He wanted to make up for the past. He wanted to do something to prove that he wasn't an ungrateful jerk.

Yeah, he could be a jerk, but he could at least be grateful for what Danny did.

The question was, how could he make up for everything he'd done to the skinny wimp who wasn't so wimpy after all? He'd been wondering it ever since he learned the truth, but he still didn't have an answer. He had a few ideas, but nothing seemed to be big enough or impressive enough to work.

He could stop picking on and bullying random kids as much. He'd already stopped with Fenton and Foley because beating up someone half-ghost or someone who was mayor was practically suicidal. Students like Nathan or Mikey were still possibilities, but it just didn't have the same appeal as before.

Another idea was that he could try to be Danny's friend and invite him to parties or something. It wouldn't be a terrible idea and Dash certainly was willing to try it, but a quick conversation with Kwan suggested it wouldn't work. They'd suspect that the football player was just trying to kiss up to them and didn't actually mean it. And considering his past behavior, Dash could understand why they would think that.

Yet another idea was that he could apply for a ghost-hunting license from the mayor and help Phantom as a sidekick. He could demonstrate his desire to change for the better by fighting ghosts. Plus, it offered a great chance to impress the ladies. After all, Paulina was obsessed with Phantom for a while and Dash knew he was just as good-looking. Of course, since Foley was mayor, that would never happen.

As his teacher scribbled something vaguely important on the board, he fought the urge to slam his head against the desk. Why did this have to be so hard? High school life was supposed to be easy when you're the quarterback of the football team, popular, and tougher than the other wimpy students you shove into lockers and bully into fixing your homework. After he graduated, he knew it would all be downhill, but Dash always thought he had at least high school under control. He wasn't supposed to have to think this much and he definitely wasn't supposed to have to worry about apologizing to a former victim of his bullying at this point in life.

Why couldn't Phantom have turned out to be someone else? Like Kwan? Or the mailman? Why did it have to be Fenton? Why did he, the entire town, and the entire planet have to be saved by one of the kids Dash treated like a punching bag?

His tangled and mixed-up thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the bell rang and the current class ended. Dash spared just a moment to notice the reading assignment on the board, debated whether or not his grade point average needed him to actually complete it, and reluctantly wrote it down before shoving his notebook in his backpack and heading out into the flood of students.

"Hey, Dash," greeted Kwan, coming up behind him when he reached his locker.

Both teenage boys wore the red and white letterman jackets and were built like brick walls, but there were plenty of differences between the two as well. While Dash had blond hair cut flat across the top of his head and bright blue eyes, Kwan's dark hair and slightly-tilted eyes demonstrated that he was of Asian descent rather than European. But both of them were on the football team and both had done a reasonable amount of bullying the other students during their time in high school. But while Dash had always been drawn to the activity, he'd noticed that Kwan rarely initiated any type of aggression on his own. In essence, Kwan was better at being the nice guy than Dash was, even if generally went along with the group anyway.

"Hey, Kwan," he nodded back. "This reading assignment is going to bore me to death."

"I don't know. It could be worse. We could be reading 'Wuthering Heights' again."

Shuddering at the memory of that book and all the weird family relations, Dash shoved his stuff into the locker and closed the door. He was never reading that story again. That guy, Hillcliff or Hedgecliff or Heathcliff or whatever his name was, was absolutely insane.

"Has anyone seen Danny?" asked Paulina as she and Star walked up to the boys.

Both of the popular girls were beautiful in their own way. Paulina was beautiful in an exotic way, with curly dark hair and big eyes. Star was more conventionally pretty, with her blonde hair and paler skin tone. And they were often together, Star orbiting around Paulina as the cheerleader captured the admiration of every boy in the school. They could date anyone in the school they wanted with their looks and would often hold out for the guy of their choice. But Paulina's interest quickly focused on the most unique (and therefore the supposedly _best_ ) boy in the entire town.

She'd wanted to date Phantom ever since he rescued her directly for the first time. The ironic thing was that she kept brushing off Fenton's attempts to gain her attention until he finally stopped caring about dating her. Only after Fenton moved on to Sam (which surprised absolutely no one) did Paulina find out that Phantom and Fenton were the same. Suddenly, she was forced to realize she could have had Phantom a long time ago if she just went out with the loser and now it was too late. He'd moved on completely and no amount of coy looks or flirtation would bring him back to her. It actually made Dash feel a little better about his own problems concerning the ghost boy's identity.

On the other hand, she hadn't completely given up on her goal. She kept circling the couple patiently, hoping that the instant the relationship hit a rough patch, she could swoop in and steal Danny for herself. No one could ever say that Paulina didn't have determination and patience when she _really_ wanted something.

"He wasn't in class today," remarked Kwan, starting to frown. "Actually, neither were Sam and Tucker."

"Well, Valerie's missing too and that weird kid with too many freckles came in late, but what's your point?" Star asked, rolling her eyes. "They probably caught a cold or something."

"Hold on. Didn't our teachers say there was a Ghost Drill today that was scheduled at the last minute?" said Paulina.

Dash glanced at the girl, "Do you think that's connected to them missing school?"

"Maybe," shrugged Kwan. "I mean, we ignored and missed out on a lot of coincidences in the past. And if we didn't, maybe we would have figured out that something was up with Fenton before the Dis-asteroid. And now the three kids who are always tangled up in ghost business, including Danny, are missing and we have a last-minute 'Ghost Drill' that will have everyone at the middle and elementary schools here, where there is a Ghost Shield. It would be dumb to ignore all that. It could be nothing or it could mean something important."

The four popular students, not known for their powers of deduction or observational skills, stood in the hall in silence for a moment. The rest of the students scurried around them, heading towards their various destinations. They knew something was happening, that there were pieces of a puzzle right in front of them, but none of them knew enough to put it together and they didn't know how find out more. They were football stars and cheerleaders, not nerds.

And that thought sparked off a slight idea. Dash reached out both hands without looking, snagging a pair of students from the wandering crowds. He yanked them over by the collars of their shirts, the pair shrieking in panic.

"Don't stuff me in a locker. I just got out five minutes ago," the slightly taller one whimpered.

"Quiet," ordered Dash. "Nathan Lester, you and Mikey are now our official nerds. We think something is going on and you're going to help us find out what it is. Got it?"

The pair squeaked and cringed a little, but they also quickly nodded, so Dash considered that as agreement. He also decided he needed a lot more practice on the whole idea of not bullying all the wimpy nerds and losers as much. He wanted to apologize to Danny and prove that he wasn't completely heartless, but scaring these two _probably_ wasn't the best way to do it.

Both boys wore glasses and had red hair, but Dash at least tried to keep track on his usual victims. Nathan was taller with large, curly red hair and currently wore a green shirt. Mikey was smaller with neater hair and wore a white polo shirt. They weren't exactly as brainy and technology-obsessed as Foley, but both were suitably smart and nerdy for whatever the four popular students might need.

"All right. We're going to solve a mystery," cheered Paulina. "And maybe get close to Phantom."

"You know he's dating Sam," Kwan reminded for about the fifth time that week.

And just like every other time someone reminded her that the boy she was after was already taken, the girl shrugged it off. Of course, if anyone was an expert of the short-lived nature of high school relationships, it would be her.

"So, first we should tell our nerds what we've figured out so far," explained Dash, trying to keep the momentum of his semi-good idea going. "Then we'll ask them what we should do next."

Before anyone else could comment, there was some kind of sound that echoed and rang through the air. It reminded Dash a little bit of thunder. It was deep and loud, booming like thunder. But it wasn't a storm. He could feel the noise a little, the sound reverberating through him. He wanted to blame it on thunder. He truly did. But he refused to ignore anything odd anymore. He didn't want another Fenton/Phantom surprise just because he didn't pay attention. The noise was a little like thunder, but not quite.

It almost sounded like someone knocking on a giant door. Or trying to break it down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we have a few interesting little things in this chapter. We get another look at Ammit as he kills off Walker, adding yet another familiar face to the list of the dead. And he knows about a certain halfa now, which means he's on the way to Amity Park. Then there is Danny's part where just about everyone is sleeping. Next, there is the small scene with Valerie and Danielle. They deserve a little time to bond and I have no idea why I made Valerie good at making pancakes, but I thought it would be good for her to have an interest outside of ghost-hunting. Finally, the popular kids have made an appearance. And this won't be their last one either.
> 
> Fun little tidbit, there's a kid on the show who is mostly a background character. In one appearance he's called Nathan. In another, he's called Lester. So I combined them together to make his name Nathan Lester.


	13. Time's Up

Tucker tried to determine if this counted as normal. His definition of normal had shifted around a lot over the years. Once, it was normal to consider all girls except for Sam to be icky and gross while Danny's basement was spooky and weird. Then, it was normal for him to think girls were pretty and that Danny's parents were just crazy. After that, normal was one of his best friends being able to fly, turn invisible, and phase through solid objects. And recently, it was normal for Danny and Sam to be a couple while he ruled as mayor over the entire city of Amity Park.

This was a little different than his past definitions of normal. There were a lot of ghosts scattered around Danny's house in various states of waking up, a mountain of donuts from a quick trip to a bakery resting on the kitchen table, and Vlad was grimacing in disgust as he sipped coffee from a mug with Jack Fenton's face on it. He honestly wasn't sure if he could call this normal by any definition, but it was at least relatively calm and quiet at the moment. And the donuts smelled delicious, so he wasn't going to complain.

"How does the phrase go? Eat, drink, and be merry?" muttered Vlad sarcastically. "I'm fairly certain that final meals are supposed to be better than donuts and instant coffee."

Tucker shrugged, "They're fresh. And I'm too hungry to care that it isn't caviar or whatever it is you want."

Walking into the kitchen, Danny said, "I figured it was better than whatever was growing in the fridge. And the lack of meat means Sam will eat them whenever she comes down."

Any further discussions about the appropriateness of the menu were tossed aside by a loud, deep, heavy sound that rang out. Everyone in the room flinched, there was a crash from the living room that probably came from Skulker falling, and the girls stampeded down the stairs.

"What was that?" asked Danny, moving into a combative stance without apparently noticing.

"Unless I'm wrong," Vlad said uneasily as he stepped away from the table, " _that_ was Ammit trying to escape the Ghost Zone."

"I thought we had more time," said Poindexter, phasing through a wall.

Danny explained, "Clockwork might have said he wouldn't reach Amity Park until later this afternoon, but he did mention we'd notice his influence before then. He might not be out, but he could still be causing problems possibly."

Tucker frowned at that. They were not quite out of time, but they were pretty close. The planning and prep stage was over. They needed to start moving civilians and getting into position. He needed to take his place as mission control.

"Okay, swing by the garage and grab a Fenton Phone, everybody. And snag some extras for anyone not here yet," said Tucker. "I'll start the 'Ghost Drill' for the schools. In ten minutes or so, I'll set out an alert for everyone else to start heading to the mall and to turn the Ghost Shields on there, at the high school, and Axion Labs."

He pulled out his phone to send a text to set it in motion. Thankfully he'd made sure ages ago that all the important people he needed to contact during an emergency, ranging from police to the power company to the principals of the various schools to his personal assistant all the way to the producer of the local news channel, were able to be reached by text messages as well as phone calls. You could never guess what the most efficient method would be in an emergency.

Sam, Jazz, and several other ghosts were poking their heads into the kitchen. He noticed that Skulker and Ember were actually pretty far apart at the moment, separated by Dora and Sam standing between them. Meanwhile, Poindexter was moving closer to the blond ghost girl. Apparently being a ghost didn't make any of the relationship drama any easier.

This was an important moment. He knew Danny would be calling the shots once the fighting started. Everyone knew that. Well, Tucker wasn't completely sure about Vlad following that strategy, but all the other would follow his lead. They volunteered specifically because Danny was great at handling dangerous psychos and they trusted his instincts on how to face such a threat.

But this was Tucker's part. He was in his element at the moment and he knew what needed to happen. He knew who would be best where. The only question was if the others would listen. The humans did when the Dis-asteroid was threatening the world, but he never needed to convince the ghosts themselves. Technus was easier since they shared a love of technology; they spoke the same language and he knew how to motivate him. This was different. He didn't know exactly how much authority he had with them. All he could do was act like he could command them and hope they didn't argue too much.

"Danny, tell your parents and Technus downstairs what's going on and to hurry. Poindexter and Dora, head to Casper High. Don't stay in the building since that could trap you behind the shield when it goes up, but get close by. Sam, call Valerie and Danielle. Tell them to head towards Axion Labs to guard it," he instructed. "Tell them that I'll be sending them some backup later, but they should get moving just in case. Sam, Jazz, and Vlad? You'll be stick close to Fenton Works when the action picks up. You'll need to keep both me and the incomplete explosive safe in case the Ghost Shield isn't enough. If Ammit manages to destroy the ecto-bomb thing before it can be completed, we're all dead anyway. Frostbite, the yeti ghosts, Klemper, and Cujo will be guarding the mall when they get here. Wulf will drop them off before joining Danielle. Danny, Skulker, and Ember will be roaming wherever they're needed. Remember, try to stay out of sight until there's someone to fight. No reason to panic and scatter the rest of the city when we need them under the shields."

"You'll have to remove the belt if you want me to be of any use," pointed out Vlad, gesturing towards the Specter Deflecter.

Jazz grabbed the man's arm and said, "Come on. I know where they keep the key."

If the red-head wanted to handle the fruit-loop, Tucker had no problem with that. He wanted nothing to do with the crazy old man who tried to pulverize his best friend multiple times. Besides, he was still hoping desperately that the assortment of ghosts staring at him would actually accept his instructions. Skulker looked a little uncertain.

"Everyone clear on their roles?" asked Danny, a firm look ensuring that all the ghosts present knew to respect Tucker's authority _or else_. When no argued, he nodded, "Good. Let's get moving."

The dark-haired boy vanished towards the basement as the rest of group gave a final glance towards Tucker, as if making sure that he knew what he was doing. He did his best to look confident and certain of his decisions. Hopefully he accomplished the desired effect rather than just looking nauseous.

"Wait," interrupted Jazz, briefly dropping her grip on Vlad's arm. "What about the Box Ghost?"

Her question was met with silence and a disbelieving expression on everyone's faces. Tucker could certainly understand the reaction. She was asking about the _Box Ghost_. He wasn't exactly someone that was really considered during the planning session of a major event, neither as an enemy nor as an ally. The Box Ghost just… wasn't an important factor. He was something to ignore until later.

"What about him?" asked Skulker, raising an eyebrow. "Does it really matter what he's doing during the fight? As long as he stays out of my way, it does not concern me. Besides, has anyone actually _seen_ him since last night?"

No one replied. A couple of ghosts exchanged looks, but no one seemed to know where the pest vanished. And none of them seemed particularly upset about the fact.

"Whatever, dude," said Tucker, heading towards his specially-constructed mission control center. "If he ran away, it isn't the end of the world."

It was going to be a long day. There were a lot of calls to make and he needed to get started. It was time to play mayor.

* * *

Technus heard the loud, booming, deafening sound, but purposefully ignored it. The designs were ready. All the plans, equations, and schematics were finished and perfect. They knew how to build what they needed. Every detail was recorded. They had the materials on hand. The Fentons handled their part of the job. Now it was time for the Master of All Technology to do his part.

Knowing what he would have to do, Technus gave everything a final examination. He knew this was going to be a challenge. Because it was designed to destroy ghosts, he couldn't use his usual shortcuts when it came to the details. He couldn't use his powers to fill in the blanks. Every single connection, wire, and screw would have to correct and exact. It would have to be something that could function without ghostly influences. It would be hard, but he could certainly do it faster than the humans by hand.

And they certainly needed speed. If they weren't fast enough and if they didn't do a good job building the thing, they would all be destroyed. Certain extinction served as a great motivation. And it gave an incentive to take a few risks.

"Mom? Dad? Technus?" called Danny, scurrying down the stairs in his human form. "We think that noise was Ammit. We're heading out to start getting ready for his arrival. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz will stay behind to keep the lab safe."

"We're just about to get started building," Maddie Fenton said, pushing back the hood of her jumpsuit. "Though it sounds like Technus will be doing the majority of it."

"Indeed, I shall," he shouted. "For I, Technus, Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping, can create large constructs and tiny complex details with equal proficiency and far greater speed than can be accomplished without the use of mechanical assembly lines!"

"Isn't he great?" said Jack cheerfully. "If we all survive this, I can already think of some new inventions he can help out with."

"Yep, I've definitely created a monster," Danny muttered. A little louder, he said, "Just… try and hurry. I've got to go."

"Good luck. And please be careful," called Maddie as he ran back up the stairs.

Not really good with emotions and yet feeling that he should say something to the pair he was working, Technus awkwardly reassured, "He'll be fine. I've tried to kill him lots of times and he's still flying around being a pain in the neck."

Judging by the expressions on their faces, the technopathic ghost realized that he probably didn't pick the best way to make them feel better about their son's safety. And even if he was getting along great with Jack, they _were_ ghost hunters. Perhaps it would be smarter to keep quiet for a while and not give them an excuse to hurt him the instant they were done with construction.

Technus turned his attention to the diagrams. He'd leave the larger outer casing to the Fentons. It was simple and straightforward. The best use of their time and resources would be for him to work on the more tiny, detailed, and complex components. It would take specialized tools and magnification for the humans to build them. He _didn't_ need them. He just needed a lot of concentration and focus, far more than he normally used on his projects. Far more than he usually risked.

Blocking out all other thoughts and distraction, he reached out with his power towards all the pieces he would need. Microchips, pieces of copper wire, and other tiny fragment floated towards him.

A soldering iron would be a useful tool, but there were only so many tools in the lab. Let the humans use it. He could make it work without the physical tool. It just took focus to reshape and attach the pieces of metal himself. He usually didn't bother, just holding the pieces in place with his powers. And he definitely didn't bother when the scale was so tiny, but he _could_ do it if necessary.

He could adapt from giant and awe-inspiring projects to something far more detail-oriented. He could feel it, his powers being adapted from a sledgehammer-type usage to something more surgical and precise. Both styles consumed a lot of energy, but just in different ways. He could do it. And he could do it fast. That was the key: it had to be effective, thorough, and fast. And the only way to accomplish that goal was to _really_ be in the zone.

The rest of the world vanished away as he focused solely on what he was working on. There was nothing else in existence except for the pieces of technology he was crafting and the cocoon of schematics that filled his mind and vision. He couldn't see, hear, or feel anything outside his tiny developing creation. He was alone with it. Nothing else was real. Nothing else mattered.

The past and the future were immaterial. Only the moment existed. He was building, creating, molding, and inventing something.

He would not stop. He _could_ not stop. Nothing would be able to reach him, wrapped up deeply in his project. There was a diagram, an end goal that was seared into his mind that he would follow without fail. No corrections, no adjustments, no breaks, and no escape.

Regardless of what happened, he would not stop until it was complete. That was what happened when he focused too much on an invention: he couldn't stop until it was finished or he keeled over. The human Nicolai Technus died that way, working until his heart gave out. But that thought was quickly washed away by his intense concentration on the project at hand. He needed to keep working.

* * *

Mr. William Lancer knew from the start that Danny was keeping secrets. Of course he was. All teenagers kept secrets. Just like all teenagers thought they were being clever when it came to hiding those secrets. Sometimes it wasn't worth the effort to dig into those secrets. Especially since most of those secrets ended up being something as simple as a crush on their best friend or an enjoyment for childish and girly cartoons.

So when it was revealed that Danny Fenton was also the ghost boy who kept protecting his students from various attacks, Lancer wasn't surprised that he was keeping a huge secret from his peers, his parents, and the world at large. He was surprised about the _details_ of the secret, though it made far more sense thinking back. The boy certainly seemed to get involved or get near lot of strange events. The way he gained access to the test answers, the way he became rather clumsy for a time period near the beginning of Danny Phantom's appearances, constant moments where he fell asleep in class, and the way he was so difficult to locate at times all started adding up properly. In Lancer's defense, though, he had a lot of students to keep track of, no one knew that it was possible to be half ghost, and not even his ghost-expert parents realized the truth before he shared his secret.

With the new understanding about the boy's responsibilities and extracurricular activities, Lancer was doing his best to accommodate him with his classes. He was a smart kid. He was just busy, juggling a lot of problems, and not always able to give his studies the attention necessary. But with a little creativity, some extra time on a few projects, and providing a copy of notes when he missed out on part of the lesson, Danny's grades were beginning to improve back to the levels they were before he apparently gained his powers. And seeing him reach the potential he always knew the boy possessed was very satisfying for the teacher.

Still, he knew there would still be days when the boy didn't show up without any notice. Either a ghost emergency or a desperate need for sleep could sometimes cause issues. So he wasn't surprised when Danny missed class that morning, though the absence of Sam, Tucker, and Valerie was a little concerning. Sam and Tucker tended to get caught up in whatever ghost-related disasters that Danny did. And Valerie had a secret that Lancer was relatively certain also connected to ghosts. So their absence and an impromptu Ghost Drill left the man on edge.

And as the students shuffled around the hallways towards their next class, a loud, deep, thundering sound rang out and the teacher felt that his concerns were correct. Resigned to another chaotic day that could possibly end in disaster, he glanced out the window. It looked a little darker than it had a moment ago. It wasn't quite overcast with clouds, but there seemed to be a slight haze in the sky that could easily become cloud cover. Strange noises, weird weather patterns, and the absence of a good chunk of his ghost-hunting students… It all added up to one possible outcome. The man stood up from his desk and headed towards the hall to perform his usual task of taking care of the kids.

"Students," he called, trying to establish a hint of order to the confusion that erupted at the noise. "Watership Down, people! Please calm down. There is no need to panic."

Whether to support his claim or to completely dismantle it, the speaker system of the school squawked to life as he spoke. There was a brief crackle as someone adjusted the microphone, but Principal Ishiyama's voice rang out clearly.

"Students, this is a Ghost Drill. Please head to the gym in an orderly fashion. Do not run, shove, or panic in any manner. Just move calmly and promptly towards the gym. This is only a drill, but you should treat it just as seriously as an actual emergency."

"Probably because it's an _actual_ emergency," Dash muttered, drawing the teacher's attention.

Dash, Kwan, Paulina, and Star standing together was not that unusual. Nathan and Mikey standing next to them, though cringing a little, was more unusual. Dash wearing a thoughtful expression was _very_ unusual. He was the star of the football team and Lancer was a fan, but he knew that deep contemplation of a situation was abnormal for the teenager.

"You should be hurrying to the gym," said the teacher, approaching his students.

"Something big is coming," Kwan remarked. "Something bad."

"And Fenton is involved. That's why he's not here today," added Dash.

Trying not to show that he completely agreed with their assessment (and definitely trying to hide how surprised he was that Dash realized that connection), Lancer said, "We don't know that. All we know is that you need to head to the gym. And since this is a drill, we'll be turning on the Ghost Shield. So even if there's something to worry about, it won't be able to reach us."

"Uh, about that Ghost Shield thing," said Star, placing a finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Doesn't that it need, like, a generator type thing for it to come out of. Like when the Fenton's used it from their RV? Where would they put that here?"

Sighing tiredly, Lancer said, "They converted one of the janitor's closets to hold it. He never liked that one anyway. Said it was haunted after what happened with that student fifty years ago. Which is ironic since that seems to be the _only_ place in the school that no one ever saw a ghost. Now, please move towards the gym. I have to go make sure that all the rooms are clear."

"Are you talking about Sidney Poindexter? Do you mean he died in a janitor's closet?" asked Dash, blinking in confusion. "Then why did the story end up about him haunting his locker after being shoved inside it so many times? I figured he just got stuck in there one day."

"And yet you still like to shove _us_ into lockers," muttered Nathan before gaining a panicked expression when he realized he'd spoken out loud.

"Gym," the teacher said firmly. " _Now_."

"No problem, Mr. Lancer. You can count on us. No detours. Just straight to the gym," said Kwan with a big grin.

Fighting back the desire to groan, the teacher turned around and headed towards the closest classroom. Maybe if he pretended to believe them, they might change their minds and actually go to the gym. Kwan usually had a little more sense than the others, so maybe he could talk them into going later. Or maybe one of the other teachers would spot them and escort them personally. Wasn't it someone else's turn to handle the ghost craziness and the students who got involved in that sort of thing?

He'd give them the chance to do the smart thing. But if he didn't see them in the gym by the time he was finished, he would go hunt them down himself and give them detention for a month. He had to make sure they were safe. He was their teacher, after all. He _had_ a responsibility to them.

* * *

Wulf felt it. The impact against the barrier between the human realm and the Ghost Zone. He knew that barrier better than anyone else. He sliced through it regularly, slipping between the two without trouble. Someone was trying to get through by smashing their way through. It was a crude, ineffective method, but enough power could accomplish a lot of things. The sensation raised his hackles.

"Easy, my friend," soothed Frostbite. "I am certain that our companions will summon us soon. Then you can return to young Danielle."

Yes, that was part of the problem. He liked Danielle. He really did. And he knew she was in a dangerous place without him. He knew that he could reach her quite easily by tearing his way back to the human realm, but he also knew he needed to wait so he could bring help. Danny, Tucker, and Sam needed as much help as possible when the time came.

His _friends_ needed help.

So he waited. He waited with the yeti ghosts, the puppy, and the cold ghost who seemed so lonely. He waited because they needed him to wait just a little longer.

But the instant they had the signal, he was going to rip his way back to Danielle and his friends. They would not face Ammit alone.

* * *

Things had certainly gone downhill for the organization recently. After the less-than-ideal outcome of their attempt to use the Fenton technology and then the reveal about Phantom's true nature, the Guys In White were experiencing some serious setbacks. The (hopefully temporary) loss of government backing and funding meant they weren't quite as powerful or numerous as before. And the two agents who were the most involved in the mess were shifted out of sight.

They weren't allowed within Amity Park without a ghost-hunting license and, for some strange reason, their applications kept being rejected by the teenage mayor. Until the paperwork was correctly completed and filed to allow them to resume their previous work, Agent K and Agent O were stuck in Elmerton, the closest location to the excessively-haunted city they were allowed. Due to the restructuring of the organization, the pair was left in charge of the GIW storage facility. They tried their best to adapt to their new positions rather than being field agents. After all, as they continuously reminded themselves, someone had to handle the large collection of anti-ghost weapons.

No matter how they tried to describe their situation and excuse their reassignment, both of them knew it wasn't glamorous. It was essentially a converted warehouse surrounded by a barbed fence with a small building that served as a combination of an office, entrance through the fence, and a lobby. They had two desks, both made of cheap wood that would shatter under too much weight. The walls were plastered with posters describing the rules, regulations, and employee rights of the Guys In White. There was a small door for most people to enter the building and another door at the opposite end of the room that led to the weapon storage itself. There were a few cameras in the building that they could access through their computers, but there was rarely any point since no one ever came to the location. The closest thing to any sign of personality on the entire property was the kitten calendar Agent O eventually added to his desk and the box of checkers left behind by the previous employees for the location, one of the lost black pieces replaced by a bottle cap years ago.

But even though their current job wasn't the most impressive, they knew their time for redemption would come. So they waited. They guarded the large warehouse. And they perfected their skills at checkers. All the time they spent at their desks at the front of the building, they kept the radio turned on so that they would know of any major events. The moment that they were called in, they would be ready.

So when the entire planet abruptly became more haunted, Agent K and O were certain that all the agents would be called in to help handle the mess. It only made sense. They spent the entire night waiting for the call, drinking coffee by the gallon. But with not a single word was ever directed in their direction and the pair were beginning to lose hope for their great comeback.

But they weren't going to give up just yet.

"I think we should consider the possibility that there has been a breakdown in communication," said Agent O carefully after hours of uneasy silence. "Otherwise our superior would have certainly contacted us by now with orders concerning the increased manifestations of ectoplasmic entities. Clearly this qualifies as an emergency situation and we should fall back on Procedure 23-19 in response."

A small smile appeared on Agent K's face. "It would be irresponsible not to do so. And as Procedure 23-19 dictates, we must arm ourselves appropriately with all available equipment and secure a perimeter of reasonable size depending on weaponry and saturation of ghosts."

Even through the standard-issue sunglasses, the agents' expressions were easy to read and mirrored each other. Neither intended to admit it out loud, both were considering more about how this would be the ideal way to regain their old positions within the organization than they were how they needed to help the population in this time of crisis. All they needed to do would be to impress their superiors during the troublesome situation. The ghosts wouldn't stand a chance.

"Considering the warehouse is fully stocked with a wide-variety of high-tech weaponry and the large influx of ghosts in less than twenty-four hours, a reasonable perimeter for us to clear would include most of the county," remarked Agent O.

Agent K reminded, "That _would_ include Amity Park."

"Emergency situations that qualify for Procedure 23-19 often allows for local ordinances, such as their ghost-hunting license, to be ignored," stated Agent O, not at all upset about the fact.

His partner nodded briefly, "Then I suggest we enact Operation White Avocado to start with."

"Operation White Barracuda would be more effective for this situation."

Their conversation about which operation would work best for Procedure 23-19 continued as the pair stepped away from their respective desks, went through the backdoor, and headed towards storage. The warehouse was meant to hold all forms of ghost-hunting tools, from trackers to rifles to weaponized motorcycles to jets. All of it identified, enclosed in approved containers, labeled, categorized, and stored in the established order. Checking out the equipment involved looking up the assigned barcode number, locating the appropriate container in the warehouse, filling out the files with the information on the object, and waiting for approval. Of course, since Agent O and Agent K were the ones in charge of the warehouse, they were the ones who approved checkout of the equipment and that should theoretically speed up the process.

As they deal with the facial scan, the thumbprint scanner, and the keypad (purposefully bypassing the nearby set of double-doors that could be accessed with the keys the janitor carried since it was the proper protocol to use the more complicated method), the agents were confident and eager. The instant they stepped through the door, however, their jaws dropped and all their thoughts went blank. They stood there for several moments, just staring.

Then, with a numb tone, Agent K said slowly, "How about we turn around and pretend this never happened?"

"Yeah. It isn't like our superior called and told us to do something."

Cautiously, they backed their way out of the warehouse, intending to return to their desks and plead ignorance. They didn't have a lot of other options. How would they be able to explain this to their superiors and ever have a chance of getting their old jobs back? They couldn't. This made them look completely incompetent.

With no other options, they walked back and tried to forget about how the warehouse was now nothing more than empty shelves, the boxes of ghost-hunting equipment mysteriously gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone realized that Procedure 23-19 was a vague reference to "Monsters Inc," I'm proud of you.


	14. Strength In Numbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a bit of a long wait for this. I do apologize. My brain was tugged into way too many directions. But at least I have time to whip up another chapter for you. I hope this makes up for it at least a little. Please enjoy.

Time to put the plan into action. The Ghost Drill for the schools was already in place, so all the students should now be gathered at Casper High. He sent another text a few minutes later, ordering a more public announcement for everyone to head for the closest Ghost Shield. That meant the entire population of Amity Park would now be rushing towards the high school, Axion Lab, or the mall. But mostly the mall. Traffic would be a nightmare, but it could have been worse. At least they had somewhere to go for protection.

As Tucker sat down at his new mission control center, which Technus did an awesome job creating, he sent yet another text. This one went to the Ghost Zone to summon Wulf, Klemper, Frostbite, and his yetis. They shouldn't need much managing beyond that, though he would send a couple of his new flying cameras towards the mall anyway.

He hit a few switches to activate the aerial cameras and programmed a few locations to send them. A few more buttons pulled up the displays for the high school, the mall, and Axion Lab. He could see everyone filing into the secure locations.

Tucker took a deep breath. So far, so good. Everything was going smoothly and he could keep an eye on everyone. Technology would never let him down. In some ways, he had the easiest job of the group since he wouldn't be fighting and would be out of the danger zone. But keeping everything organized, keeping tabs on everyone, and hopefully keeping everyone involved alive wouldn't be that simple either.

He didn't want them to die. His friends. His family. The people of Amity Park. Evne the ghosts who terrorized the city on a weekly basis. He didn't want them to die. So he would have to be at the top of his game.

"This is Tucker. Fenton Phones working so far?"

"Yep. I hear you loud and clear," said Danny, his voice coming through the speakers.

"Mine still work fine. I've also got eyes on Jazz and Vlad. Hers seems fine and he hasn't put them in yet. I just talked to Val and Danielle. They're on their way to the labs."

"I'll admit it, Whelp. These should be useful on the hunt."

"I'm on the horn too and can hear you, no sweat."

"Like Sidney, I can hear you quite clearly. We are drawing near the school."

"Keep an eye on the volume, dork. My music tends to get loud and I wouldn't want all of you to go deaf."

Tucker smiled and said, "Don't worry. The Fenton Phones were built to filter out ghost-related sounds, especially when there's ghost powers connected to the noise. Like the mind controlling parts of your music. But I do have a surprise for you that should help."

"What?"

He queued up the song he'd sent to all three locations, everything setup and ready for him to activate. He'd gone through a lot of trouble for this. He couldn't risk just downloading it like he had in the past. Most of the copies, both physical and digital, were long gone. Danny and Sam wouldn't approve of him keeping one, let alone copying it for today.

But Tucker tracked it down months ago and sent it through every filter he could devise. It left him intimately familiar with how the Fenton Phones worked and how they removed the ghostly influence from sound waves. Honestly, Tucker knew it was a lot of trouble for almost no practically purpose. He certainly didn't plan for this eventuality when he first preserved this piece of music.

But what could he say? He loved the song too much to completely give it up. And that was now proving useful.

"You'll see. Until then, I have mayor stuff to do real quick. Remember. Low profile until things start happening."

* * *

Vlad didn't quite breathe a sigh of relief when Jazz unlocked the Specter Deflecter and tossed it on the couch, but he did relax a little. The red-haired teenager gave him a small encouraging smile and didn't even flinch when a ring of energy swept over his body, shifting him to his more ghostly form. She truly wanted to help him be a better person. She wanted to support him because no one else would. He didn't delude himself into thinking she liked him or that Jazz completely trusted him. Helping others was simply a part of her nature and his admission of his acceptance of his inevitable death worried her.

It was a shame he could not have know this young lady better. Another wasted opportunity, like so many others he squandered. Well, he would not have to carry those regrets much longer. Ammit was coming.

"How many more of these… 'Fenton Phones' still need to be distributed?" he asked, settling the device into his ear.

"Danny has some for Frostbite, Klemper, and Wulf. Valerie and Danielle still need a couple," said Sam, her distrustful gaze never leaving him.

She didn't like him. She'd seen too much. And she'd seen how he'd hurt those she cared for. Sam might have her flaws and sins, but she loved Danny. And he loved her back. They would fight for each other, but they did not trick or force the other to be with them. Not like he'd tried. Sam did not like or trust the man, but Vlad could respect the girl and her relationship.

He hoped the plan worked. He hoped there would be happy endings for Sam and Danny. For Danielle. For Jazz. For Maddie and even Jack.

Vlad tried to shrug off the melancholy that felt like it was settling on his shoulders. He needed to focus. He wouldn't have time for reflection or regret once the action started. He just needed to stay in control of himself until the fighting began.

"If you would hand them over, I'll ensure they receive the Fenton Phones promptly," he said, extending a hand towards her.

Sam glared like she was facing a venomous reptile rather than an honest offer to help. He kept an eye on her in case she decided to be the third girl to punch him in the face since his return.

"I don't think so. You're staying where we can keep watch. I'll ask Ember or someone."

Unable to resist the temptation, Vlad grinned smugly and said, "You are welcome to watch me as closely as you like, Samantha. That does not mean I will not make myself useful regardless."

Before either teenager could react, Vlad duplicated himself into four versions of himself. Two immediately turned invisible and intangible, flying out of the living room. A third paused long enough to snatch a pair of Fenton Phones from Sam before doing the same. The fourth remained firmly in place to observe the black-haired girl's reaction. Apparently this scenario never occurred to her.

Duplicating himself was one of the trickier abilities Vlad learned over the decades. It took him years to perfect it. Splitting his strength between four bodies was one thing. Splitting his consciousness four different ways was harder. Until he got better at it, more complicated actions or longer distance became disorienting and sometimes the personalities and behaviors didn't quite seem right. Each body could still see and hear what the others did as a form of background noise, which made coordinated actions between his various selves quite effective once he'd perfected the technique. But any more than four duplicates and he would end up with some of them stuck with only rudimentary awareness.

Still, duplication was a useful skill and one he used nearly as much as flight, invisibility, and intangibility. You never know when you might need to be in two places as once. Especially when establishing an alibi. So as three of his selves took to the sky, taking note of how it was growing darker with each passing second, the fourth remained in the living room with the two teenage girls.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't what Danny had in mind when he told you to help guard things here," said Jazz dryly.

"We need the numbers. I can protect this house and everyone in it, but I can also cover more of the city at the same time. It is merely making the best use of the resources at hand, Jasmine."

"And based on their reactions last night, how do think Valerie and Danielle will react when you show up at Axion Labs?" She crossed her arms in front of her. "Do you really want them to punch you in the face again?"

"I'd _prefer_ to avoid that. This is simply the best option. Surely you can see that."

Shaking her head slightly, Sam said, "I really don't know what goes on in your twisted brain. What in the world are you thinking?"

"I've done a lot of things wrong in my life. As I told Daniel, I am trying to do something right."

"Do you really think you can make up for what you've done by… by dropping off a couple of Fenton Phones?"

What he'd done… What he'd done to Danny… What he'd done to the Fenton family… What he'd done to Valerie… What he'd done to Danielle…

"We all know I can never make up for my past. I've done too much for that. I've burned too many bridges and tried to ruin too many lives. You don't have to trust me or understand me. Just accept the fact I'm here to help for now."

"And after?" asked Sam.

"Assuming Ammit doesn't wipe out humanity and ghosts? You won't have to worry about me anymore." Glancing towards the red-head and her pained expression, Vlad suggested, "Perhaps you should activate the Ghost Shield while I step outside. It wouldn't do us much good if Ammit destroys the explosive before your parents finish."

* * *

The skies were growing darker at a steady rate. It wasn't quite because of the clouds, though a few were beginning to roll in. There was just this shadowy haze forming in the air, not quite a fog and yet dimming the light quite effectively. And every now and then, another explosive crash rang out. Everything about his surroundings spoke of some evil force slowly enveloping his hometown.

And yet even in the face of an impossible opponent and almost certain annihilation, Danny couldn't completely ignore the tension between the two ghosts on either side of him. This was apparently what happened when he agreed to work with the volatile couple. They weren't screaming and yelling at each other though. He was used to that from the night before. They were quietly ignoring each other's presence. Or at least _pretending_ to ignore each other since both Skulker and Ember kept sneaking brief glances at one another. Why in the world did their relationship drama have to bubble up now?

Well, at least it served as a nice distraction from the waves of dread and fear that Ammit's mere existence caused. Because that sensation never completely vanished and Danny could feel it gnawing at the back of his mind.

"So any idea what your friend was talking about, Phantom?" asked Ember as they floated high above the city, observing the evacuation towards the mall.

"Afraid not, but I'm sure it'll be a lot of help. I trust him."

"Considering the fact the city hasn't burned to the ground with him as mayor, I'd say that we can depend on Mr. Foley's capabilities," remarked Vlad, flying up to join them.

Staring at his worst enemy, Danny said, "You're supposed to guard the house with Jazz and Sam."

"I am. That doesn't mean I can't be here at the same time. You should know that by now, Daniel."

A second version of Vlad floated into view, reinforcing the halfa's words. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Danny managed to keep his silence. He should have expected this. While Danny had just recently learned to duplicate himself successfully, Vlad loved pulling off that particular trick. While it was annoying that he wouldn't be able to keep track of Vlad as easily, they needed the numbers. Cover the entire city with a handful of ghosts meant he couldn't complain about Vlad providing some extra help.

Plus, he could run a quick errand for Danny.

"Fine. Could you take this to the mall and give this to Frostbite and Klemper? After that, just… stay out of sight until Ammit actually attacks," said Danny, handing over a pair of Fenton Phones to one of the versions of Vlad. Once that duplicate of Vlad took off, he continued, "Remember, everyone. We just need to keep him preoccupied and protect the people until my parents and Technus finish."

One of the newly-crafted flying cameras flew up to join them. The lens shifted between them briefly before Tucker's voice came over the speakers.

* * *

The janitor kept the door open as he messed with the newly-installed security system, making it easier for the teenagers to spy on how exactly the Ghost Shield activated. He worked fast, turning a dial clockwise and pushing a lever as far as it would go. Then he scurried out of the converted janitor's closet, clutching his mop tightly and moving like he expected to be attacked even within the protected school. Of course, if Mr. Lance was right about where the school legend, Sidney Poindexter, died before the ghost started haunting the property, maybe his fears weren't completely unfounded.

Why did the dead nerd haunt his old locker if he died in an old janitor's closet? Dash would probably never understand ghosts.

"All right, the coast is clear," he said as they rounded the corner. "Let's get in there."

Mikey, shoved to the front of the group, asked nervously, "Um, what exactly are we doing in here?"

"We're, like, investigating and stuff," said Star. "This is a ghost problem, right? So we should look where ghost stuff is."

"But… this is just where they activate the Ghost Shield. Why would we find clues about the current situation here?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Dash asked.

Surely the nerd could tell this was the best place to look for clues. It was all… science-y. The machine took up an entire wall of the (admittedly small) janitor's closet. There were multiple screens of varying sizes covered in glowing green numbers and words with way too many letters. There were switches, buttons, and dials with a variety of markings. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie or something. It certainly looked more impressive that however it was setup on the Fenton's RV.

"Yeah. Head to the gym with everyone else. They're bound to tell us what's happening," suggested Mikey.

"And we'll be stuck with all the other students and won't be able to help," said Kwan. "Just do your best. See what you can learn from this equipment. What can you see on the screens? What do the buttons say?"

Pushing his glasses further up his face, the smaller nerd said, "Um… Let's see. Circumference of shield… Power usage… Remaining power… Shield strength… Emergency transmission signals… Emergency ham supply?" Mikey shook his head briefly. "I don't know what you expect me to find."

"Well, it can be adjusted, right? How big of a shield and how strong it is," said Nathan, leaning over his shoulder. "They set it at full strength and at the largest size. They wouldn't waste this much power on a drill. The principal at least knows it is real and told the janitor to use full power."

"So we have a real ghost attack about to happen," Paulina said. "We were right. Yay for us!"

The two nerds grimaced as she jumped excitedly. Dash allowed himself a brief smile. He was right. He figured out something was wrong and investigated it. And thus he'd exceeded all expectations that his C average grades would suggest.

"A powerful ghost. And clearly worse than most," said Mikey. "Otherwise why would they be so sneaky about protecting us without letting us know about it?"

"Then let's get ready for whatever is coming," Dash said. "Nathan, you any good at figuring out combination locks?"

"Considering how many lockers I have to open from the inside, I'm pretty good at them."

"Great," he said. "Nathan, come with me. We need to grab some gear. It'll be like the time with the pirate ship and all the adults getting controlled with boring music. We'll get the stuff and the rest of you keep an eye on the Ghost Shield equipment."

Before anyone could follow his instructions, Mikey pointed at the machinery and said, "Hey, look. It's picking up a transmission signal. Someone is broadcasting something to the school and we're picking it up. Must be Fenton related."

Dash leaned over to look. One of the small screens no longer showed numbers and scribbles that he couldn't understand. Instead, it looked more like a television screen. And there was a familiar face dominating that screen.

"Is that Foley?"

* * *

The worried population of Amity Park hurrying into the food court of the mall and the students filing into the gymnasium were quick to notice the changes. Bolted on the wall above the crowds in each location were a huge flat-screen television and a top-of-the-line sound system, both extremely high-tech and clearly the work of their mayor. Any new pieces of technology introduced without warning, especially when a high-level ghost warning was announced, had to be the work of their technology-loving teenage mayor. Or the Fentons, but that usually involved their faces or names slapped on the side.

After a few moments of confused and worried muttering as the crowds at the mall, high school, and Axion Labs tried to work out what was going on, the screens flickered to life. Local television and radio stations were immediately hijacked. Across the city, Tucker Foley's features peered out at the population. Everyone fell silent in the hopes of answers.

"People of Amity Park," he announced dramatically. "This is your beloved and surprisingly-single mayor with some grave news. Currently, a very powerful and dangerous ghost by the name of Ammit is on his way to our town. Far worse than our usual ghost problems. And while I don't want you to panic or freak out, you should probably know that he intends to destroy everyone and everything when he gets here."

Even with his warning, not everyone handled his news calmly. Adults gasped or screamed in fear. Children cried while teachers and staff tried to restore order. Scientists grew pale.

" _But_ we already have a plan underway to handle the threat and protect you," Tucker continued firmly. "If you are not already under a Ghost Shield, get there now. The Fenton family is creating something to stop the oncoming ghost. Danny Phantom and other trained professionals are already in position to combat the threat. We are taking all possible precautions to ensure your safety."

While most of the people were now completely focused on the screen and the only glimpse of salvation, a few stragglers at the mall ran inside in a panic. They shouted frantically about an army of ghost yetis appearing out of nowhere in the parking lot.

"As further proof that your mayor is taking advantage of all possible resources at our disposal to protect you, several other ghosts have been recruited to assist just as they did during the Dis-asteroid incident. For today at least, they are on our side. They share no love for Ammit and intend to fight him. So if you see a ghost you recognize from the past, don't be afraid. They're here to help keep you safe."

People in the mall exchanged uneasy glances. The students and teachers at the school held slightly fewer reservations, but were also briefly distracted by the smells of meat and freshly-baked cookies. But everyone noticed the almost mischievous grin that spread across their mayor's face.

"And since the other ghosts are our allies today, we should help them out. Everyone at Casper High should remember what to do when you hear this, but I need everyone's support. Don't just remember her name. Say it."

And with that odd remark, he hit a button and a familiar tune and voice began to ring out from the speakers.

" _Yeah! Oohh!_ "

Every single teenager smiled and cheered at the energetic guitar music that filled the room. Time didn't diminish their enthusiasm for the song even as the adults at the school grimaced in recognition. Even if it didn't mind control them this time, they could appreciate good music.

" _It was, it was September_  
_Winds blow, the dead leaves fall_  
 _To you, I did surrender_  
 _Two weeks, you didn't call.._."

* * *

"He didn't," said Danny, his voice practically deadpan.

"He _did_ ," Ember cackled as the opening notes of her song played through the speakers. "This is more like it."

"I was unaware the upcoming fight required a soundtrack," remarked Vlad dryly.

"Nah. But with a captive audience listening and supporting me? The power boost could be useful."

Danny could already see an effect as her flaming teal hair flared up brighter. He remembered how hard it was fighting at the peak of her power at her concert. That level of strength could only help against Ammit.

But when this was over, he was definitely asking why Tucker still had that song.

* * *

"Oh, I almost forgot how much I love this song," said Paulina, her head already bobbing to the music. "Oh, _Ember_ , you will _remember_ …"

"Okay, so we know what's happening now," Dash interrupted, earning a brief glare from the girl. "This Ammit guy is coming to kill everyone or something. But all the other ghosts are good guys."

"At least for today," added Nathan nervously.

"This is way too big for us," Mikey said. "We should just go to the gym."

No way was that going to happen. Even if his brain kept screaming at him to do it, Dash couldn't just go and hide with all the other kids. This was his chance. He didn't have any other way to show Fenton that he was grateful for all the times Phantom saved everyone. This was a "thank you" and an apology all wrapped up into one. And no matter how scary, he couldn't run away.

It was easy to be brave when he was stronger and bigger than anyone else in the school. It was even easy to be brave when dealing with an entire opposing football team of equally strong and big guys. It was harder when facing terrifying ghosts. But for once in his life, Dash refused to take the easy way out.

"Kwan, you stay here with Mikey," he said. Grabbing a couple short-ranged radios the janitor apparently never moved, Dash handed one to his teammate and the other to the cheerleaders. He kept a third for himself. "Paulina and Star? See what's happening in the gym and let us know."

"What are we doing?" asked Nathan as Dash yanked him out of the janitor's closet and down the hall.

"I already told you. First, we're arming ourselves. Then we're going to protect the school from Ammit."

* * *

The periodic noise ringing out as something tried to break through the barrier between dimensions was annoying and distracting. Danielle certainly preferred Wulf's method of slicing between the Ghost Zone and the Human Realm. She almost wanted Ammit to hurry up so she could start the fight already.

 _Almost_. She wasn't stupid.

But for the moment, she and Valerie were left floating outside the protective green Ghost Shield surrounding Axion Labs. The older girl was in her combative suit and Danielle was in her ghost form, so they were ready for action. But other than the noise, the growing darkness, and the dread gnawing at her stomach, there was no real evidence of any danger.

"Think Wulf's back yet?" asked Danielle.

"He's supposed to bring Frostbite and his people to the mall first, right?" Valerie said. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

She was right. He'd be here soon. If she couldn't fight Ammit alongside Danny, she could at least work with Valerie and Wulf. Danielle liked the older girl and she knew Wulf better than she did most people. They would watch her back.

She wasn't worried about what was coming. Even if she had to remind herself that she wasn't worried, Danielle refused to be afraid. Even if she hadn't fought as many powerful ghosts as Danny, she knew they could do this. It would be all right.

It was the waiting and wondering that was killing her. Patience wasn't exactly her strongest trait. It let her mind wander too much.

"How are we supposed to know what's happening? Are they going to keep calling your cell phone?"

"Actually, we're using these Fenton Phones to communicate," Vlad said abruptly, appearing out of thin air.

Danielle yelped in surprise at his arrival, almost throwing an ecto-blast at the halfa as he turned visible in front of them. Valerie almost fell off her hover board and snarled something Danielle couldn't quite hear, but didn't sound complimentary.

"Language, Valerie," he scolded before tossing two small objects toward the girls. "There's a child present. Do try to be a good role model for her."

"What, like you?" spat Danielle venomously as she stuffed the Fenton Phone into her ear. "Because you really have no room to talk."

"Fine. You delivered them. Now go away. Otherwise one of us might shoot you by 'accident.' Understand?" Valerie said sharply.

Whatever form of posturing or further threats they might have exchanged next was interrupted by reality being torn and two furry figures jumping through. While Danielle appreciated the small puppy with green fur, she smiled at the larger figure in the hoodie. Wulf brightened briefly at her, even wagging his tail. Then he picked up on the tension between everyone. She watched him raise his hackles and he directed a low growl towards Vlad.

"He's always been a good judge of character," said Danielle.

Vlad turned back towards her, his glowing red eyes meeting hers. Danielle couldn't quite identify the emotions on his face. But it made her want to punch him and wrap him in a desperate hug at the same time. She hated the latter reaction, even if Jazz said it was normal, so Danielle shoved it down.

"If you both insist I keep my distance from you, then I owe you at least that much," he said evenly. "I will not bother you further. Just… be careful, Danielle."

"Like _you_ care."

He didn't respond to Danielle sharp reply. Vlad simply stared at her silently a moment before disappearing.

"Okay, I'll admit it. Invisibility makes for more dramatic exits," muttered Valerie. Taking a moment to remove her helmet and pop the Fenton Phone in place, she said, "Everyone hear us now?"

"Loud and clear," said Tucker. "Is the lab secure?"

"Yep. Ghost Shield is up and the four of us are ready. Oh, and Vlad might be in the area too."

"He's all over the place," Danny's voice remarked over the line. "Duplication."

"He really likes that trick," said Danielle.

"Yep. How else do you think he became mayor? Duplication and overshadowing the voters."

Valerie snapped, "Wait, what? _That's_ what happened? That lying, manipulative, cheating…"

"You already know was a jerk," Danny reminded. "How can this surprise you?"

"And that's why I'm the better mayor," Tucker said smugly.

"All of you are aware I can hear all of this, aren't you?" remarked Vlad dryly over the Fenton Phones.

"Yes. We just don't care," Valerie said.

Danielle smiled slightly at the banter as she floated lower to the ground. Cujo and Wulf quickly joined her, the puppy practically jumping up to lick her face while the werewolf sniffed her over protectively and placed a comforting hand (paw?) on her shoulder. Both clearly sensed how Vlad's brief appearance affected her mood and they were trying to cheer her up in their own ways. She deeply appreciated their efforts.

Another loud crash rang out, but with a new cracking sound accompanying it. Danielle jumped as some of shadows darkened and appeared to grow more solid. And vaguely… tentacle-y.

"Cujo," she said steadily, hoping this was one of his trained commands since she had no idea what they taught dogs. " _Guard_."

Instantly, the adorable puppy was replaced by a huge and snarling guard dog that snapped at the spawning tendrils of darkness. Wulf launched himself forward in the same moment and she heard the whine of charging weapons behind her.

Danielle felt ecto-energy collecting in her hands as her green glow met the shadows. Not quite Ammit himself, but certainly something connected to him. Her instincts screamed the tendrils were dangerous.

Which meant she had a target.

The white-haired girl dove straight in, kicking and punching with all her strength. She might hate the man, but all of Vlad's combat training was about to pay off.

* * *

Wrapped in his shadows, Ammit produced a fanged grin that no one remained to see. He felt the barrier between the dimensions give slightly beneath his power. A crack was forming.

Progress.

A proper challenge was waiting for him.


	15. Clever Strategies

The entire school building was covered by the glowing green Ghost Shield, trapping them outside and cutting him off from most of Casper High. Some people would consider this an oversight since that severely limited his usefulness. But he knew it was more important to protect all the children inside and Sidney could work around his limits.

The two ghosts stood on the front lawn of Casper High, their backs to the impenetrable shield. They watched the shadows lengthen and darken. Neither of them were particularly aggressive or violent specters normally. But they would defend the students and teachers of Casper High from what was coming.

"Sidney," said Dora quietly, causing him to stiffen. "I know not everyone will survive this day unscathed. The danger is too great. My brother will not be the only loss. But if I have to face Ammit, then I am glad to have you by my side."

Sidney ducked his head briefly, trying to hide how his face darkened in response. He silently begged Dora not to ask why his cheeks were a darker shade of grey now. He desperately hoped she wouldn't realize he was blushing. Once again, Sidney felt thankful he couldn't turn a more distinctive red.

"Th-thank you, Dora. I'm happy to have you too. To help me, I mean. It'll be easier to protect the school if I'm not alone," he managed to stammer. "I'd rather be with you than alone."

Before Sidney could say something completely foolish with his stumbling tongue, another explosive loud sound rang out. This time, something shifted. Shadows lengthened further and darkened to something almost unnatural for daytime. The very atmosphere grew more oppressive.

"It is time," said Dora, her eyes widening. She glanced back briefly at the Ghost Shield and asked, "Will you be all right? The building is beyond your reach."

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Sidney said, "I'll manage. You better get changed."

She reached up and touched her amulet lightly. Dora closed her eyes. Then her expression shifted. All the pain and fury of a bullied, repressed, and frustrated young woman flooded forth. Sidney could recognize those emotions anywhere. And the power of her amulet tapped into the power of those more aggressive and painful emotions.

The beautiful and elegant princess shifted and morphed before his eyes. She grew quickly, blue scales replacing her dress and skin while wings emerged. Her hair was replaced by horns and her face elongated into a muzzle filled with fangs. Within seconds, the ghost girl was replaced by the large and powerful dragon.

But even as a dragon, Dora was one swell doll.

With an echoing roar, she released a stream of ghostly flames that burned away at the strange shadows. Then, glancing at where further tendril-like shadows were forming, she spread her wings and took to the air. She started circling the glowing green dome, ready to defend it.

Sidney stared at the strange darkness as it recovered from Dora's initial attack. She was right about the Ghost Shield limiting his options. The school and everything inside it was beyond his reach. And outside the school grounds, he could do almost nothing against the shadows that writhed and lengthend.

The key phrase was school _grounds_.

Standing on the front lawn of Casper High, the Ghost Shield glowing at his back, Sidney reached down with his power. He reached down until he found what he needed. He waited motionless, watching the malevolent darkness. Only when the shadowy tendrils shot towards him did Sidney throw his hands up.

Pipes burst out of the ground and speared them before they could harm the teenage ghost. All the plumbing and the sprinkler system ripped their way upwards like aggressive snakes. While certainly different than controlling lockers and textbooks, Sidney sent the metal pipes stabbing and attacking the threat to the school.

He wasn't the strongest ghost, but never let it be said that Sidney couldn't be clever or creative.

* * *

Jason quietly cursed as he pressed harder on the accelerator. He drove down the streets of Amity Park, trying to reach the mall. He'd heard the orders to head for the security of the Ghost Shield, but he'd delayed. Ghosts attacks weren't uncommon. He hadn't worried. Not until the more detailed warning came over the radio and television stations from their teenage mayor and the growing darkness. And now it was probably too late to make it to safety.

The wheels of his car squealed as he made a sharp turn. Jason yelped in terror as he caught sight of some shadowy thing sprouting sharp tendrils directly in front of him. The man slammed on the brakes even as the dark shapes lunged at his vehicle.

A loud guitar chord rang out and a large fist-shaped mass of ecto-energy slammed down on the shadows. Missiles soared overhead and struck the remaining tendrils, exploding like something from an action movie.

Jason stared in slack-jawed shock for a few moments. He couldn't bring himself to move until a shape flew down beside the window of his car. He jumped as he recognized the robotic ghost before he remembered Mayor Foley's words.

"Get moving," snapped Skulker sharply. "The Whelp said to protect the humans. That doesn't mean you should linger."

He didn't need to be asked twice. Jason's car squealed back into motion. He raced down the familiar streets as ecto-blasts of various types continued to clear a path and drive back the darkness. The man didn't dare look closer at the unexpected allies or the strange shadows. All he focused on was heading towards the mall and the safety of the Ghost Shield.

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't much parking left by the time he got there. At some point, the vast crowds just started leaving their cards haphazardly wherever there was space. Jason knew he'd be towed immediately if there were any cops left around. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

But while the number of cars stuffed into the parking lot wasn't surprising, the welcoming party nearly made him pause. Jason saw an army of large, white-furred creatures that looked like they belonged in the Himalayas. As far as Jason could see, they appeared to creating a wall of ice around the Ghost Shield alongside a ghost wearing red-and-white pajamas.

And yet this still wasn't the weirdest day in Amity Park. But it was close.

The largest of the ghostly yetis spotted Jason and gestured towards him with an ice hand, saying firmly, "Come this way. We left a doorway for the humans to enter. You'll be quite safe inside."

The voice of a large ghost monster should not be as reassuring as it was. Of course, the fact that he apparently wanted to help and wasn't as creepy as the shadows may have had something to do with it. And getting inside was Jason's goal anyway. He was perfectly willing to run towards the only secure place in the city.

As Jason sprinted, he caught sight of another ghost flying overhead. He recognized the blue-skinned, cape-wearing ghost from months ago as the former mayor. Even if he didn't even slow down or hesitate, Jason's thoughts started whirling. Why in the world would Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius, or whatever he called himself be flying around in this chaos? When did he get back? What was going on?

But the moment Jason ran through the frozen archway and crossed the Ghost Shield, he decided he didn't care. He didn't care what new chaos had descended on Amity Park. As long as he'd made it somewhere safe, he wasn't going to question it. He was just going to hide in the mall with the rest of the town's population and wait until it was over.

After all, that's what you do when you live in the most haunted town in the world.

* * *

Paulina didn't know what she expected to find when she and Star snuck into the gymnasium. The giant television screen on the wall and the sound system were definitely new additions. All the bleachers and most of the floor space was packed with students ranging from Kindergarteners all the way to Seniors. Teachers and faculty tried to keep the smaller kids calm, but the majority of the people were chanting "ember" as her song filled the air and made their efforts difficult. And on the screen, she could see ghosts fighting some kind of creepy shadow. The channel kept seeming to change at random, showing different scenes, but they all showed them fighting.

"Was that Ember on screen just now?" asked Star quietly, the pair of them hiding behind the bleachers to avoid attention. "That is so cool."

As the scene changed again, Paulina frowned. There was a dragon flying around outside the school. The television was showing an actual dragon ghost circling the place, breathing fire like out of a fairy tale. But that's not what made the teenage girl frown.

"I remember that," Paulina said. "That dragon is wearing the same necklace I used to have."

"Really? Wouldn't it be a little big on you?" asked Star.

"It didn't look that big at the time. But I do think it looks better on the dragon. It's a very flattering color on her."

"Definitely. It really matches her horns."

"Would you dearies like a cookie?"

The unexpected voice made the girls yelp. Fortunately, the loud music and chanting audience covered it up. The two spun around to find a green-skinned ghost dressed like a lunch lady with a tray of cookies and a friendly smile.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Paulina asked.

"Well, I intended to help protect the children of this school, said the ghost in a motherly voice. "But the Ghost Shield went up before I could step outside. So I'm going to keep an eye and make sure things stay settled in here."

"Oh, so you're a nice ghost like Tucker said," Star remarked cheerfully. Picking up a cookie, she asked, "Are these fat-free, sugar-free, carb-free, and gluten-free?"

Blinking briefly, the ghost said, "They're baked with love and create smiles."

"So is that a 'yes'?"

When the lunch lady ghost just stared at her, Star shrugged and took a bite. Paulina took a cookie for herself. The ghost seemed rather pleased by that.

"So if something bad happens to the Ghost Shield, you're going to help protect everyone?" asked Paulina. "Great. We're trying to help too. Star and I are supposed to see what's happening while Dash, Kwan, and the nerds to other stuff. What to help?"

"I already promised young Sidney Poindexter and his nice young lady friend. The students of this school will remain safe and well-fed while I remain."

Paulina ignored the familiar name of the school legend and the implications that the famous loser might have a girlfriend. Juicy gossip could wait. She focused on the important part.

"So you'll do it? This is great. Now we have something interesting to report to the boys," said Paulina cheerfully. "Look at us doing stuff. This hero thing is easy. Everyone is going to be so impressed."

Staring at her suspiciously, Star said dryly, "You _know_ this won't give you Danny, right? He _has_ a girlfriend."

"You're ruining my moment. And you never know."

* * *

So far, they were keeping on top of things. The creepy solid shadows would break apart when hit by a powerful attack, though they would reform afterwards. And while the number of people clearly unable to understand _get to a secure location_ _ **now**_ didn't make things easier, Danny and the ghosts somehow prevented any fatal accidents as everyone scrambled towards shelter.

Honestly, Danny was impressed by how well the various ghosts were at protecting the citizens of Amity Park for once rather than terrorizing it. Ember's guitar possessed numerous settings, letting her create everything from flames to ecto-blasts in various shapes to pure ecto-energy waves. Skulker's arsenal included almost every weapon imaginable, close-range and distant. And even Vlad's fighting style could be easily adapted to protect someone. Danny certainly preferred fighting alongside them rather than being hit by them.

"You guys are doing great," said Tucker over the Fenton Phones, one of his flying cameras keeping pace with Danny. "I'm broadcasting this so everyone can see. It's helping Ember almost as much as the song and keeps moral up at the same time."

Watching her strike another power chord that became a skull-shaped mass of ecto-energy, he said, "I guess that's a good thing then. We've got these shadow things under control."

"The mall is now protected by both the Ghost Shield and a thick wall of ice, Great One," announced Frostbit over the line. "Now even if this city's defenders should fall, the people will be protected."

As Danny fired at a reforming tendril of darkness, Valerie's voice chimed in, "Me, Danielle, and the canines are holding our own near the lab." The sounds of weapon fire followed immediately. "Take _that_. Think you're so tough? I'll show _you_ tough."

A few explosions to the left indicated Skulker had opened fire again. Automatic weapon aiming systems and a lot of ammunition certainly had their advantages.

"Don't get overconfident," Vlad warned. "We're not even facing Ammit yet. This is just a fraction of his power leaking through. It's only going to grow worse."

"Thanks for that cheery reminder," said Danny.

Almost as if responding to their words, another echoing crash rang out all around them. The shadows managed to grow darker, thicker, and sharper. They lashed out viciously, trying to spear the halfa. Danny barely managed to twist out of the way while firing an ecto-blast at it. The shadows were definitely growing faster.

A few more green streaks of light hit as Danny fired rapidly, but the darkness seemed more resistant than before. Frowning in concentration, this time he let the ecto-energy gather into a large orb before throwing it into the mass. The shadows exploded on impact and vanished temporarily.

He landed lightly on the closest roof. He could see it. The shadows were seeping into every street, growing visibly before his eyes. The darkness was spreading all across the city. They weren't going to be enough. If the shadows continued to worsen, it wouldn't take long for the ghosts, halfas, and ghost-hunters to be overwhelmed.

Playing Ember's song and Vlad multiplying himself gave them a slight advantage he hadn't planned on, but it wasn't enough. They needed something more.

* * *

Technological multi-tasking was one of Tucker's best skills. That and hacking into the school's systems to change his grades. He could watch multiple screens while still noticing key details. He also kept switching between the various cameras flying around the city, never focusing one place for very long. He kept Ember's song playing on a loop. And he regularly checked in on everyone in the field. Within his specially-built mission control, Tucker as the master of his domain.

But there was a clock counting down. It was a clock that he wished they could ignore, but was far too important for that. Thanks to Danny's visit to Clockwork, they knew exactly when Ammit would officially appear in Amity Park. They knew exactly when everything would go horribly wrong.

It was a race to the finish. Would the Fentons and Technus finish before the countdown hit zero? Or would they have to face the powerful ghost who terrified everyone? Even as Tucker tried to main control over countless elements, he kept that worry in the back of his mind.

Movement in the corner of one screen caught his attention. Tucker instantly grabbed a joystick and directed one of his flying cameras to follow. It took a moment to find it again, but he eventually managed to get the contraption at the right angle.

Tucker blinked.

He looked again. He was right the first time. And there was more than one. A lot more than one.

He blinked again, trying to wrap his mind around it.

They needed to know. He needed to tell the others. This was too insane to ignore.

"Uh, guys…? We might… We have incoming."

* * *

Jazz, demonstrating quite clearly that she was her mother's daughter, rolled out of the way of another shadow trying to skewer her. As she shifted straight back to her feet, she fired her chosen weapon at the dark force. The Portable Fenton Ghost Peeler always did work well for her. The weapon blast was quickly joined by a pink ecto-ray that destroyed the shadows. She glanced up and gave a thankful nod to Vlad as he flew overhead, firing at every threat that formed.

Since almost everyone was at school or work by the time Tucker announced the evacuation, none of the neighbors tried to take shelter under the Fenton home's Ghost Shield. The only ones on the street outside were Jazz, Sam, and Vlad. While the rest of the team protected the city, the three of them just needed to guard the house. And so far, it wasn't too hard.

"What do you mean 'incoming'?" asked Sam, firing both of her Fenton Wrist Rays. "Good incoming or bad incoming?"

"I… I honestly don't know what to call it," Tucker's voice replied over the line. "But I don't think it's bad. It isn't Ammit at least."

"Then what's coming?" asked Danielle, sounded winded through the Fenton Phones.

Something flew overhead, the quick movement catching her eye. Jazz didn't see the first one clearly enough to identify it, but she saw the second one just fine. And the third. And the fourth.

A smile spread across Jazz's face.

* * *

Danny saw what Tucker meant by incoming. There couldn't really be any doubt in his mind since the approach quickly became obvious. And he could see why his best friend couldn't easily describe it.

They darkened the already-shadowy horizon. He could see hundreds of them in a variety of sizes, some of them clearly huge. He saw them race through the air, a slight glow around each one demonstrating the power suspending them clearly belonged to a ghost. The objects that flew over the city remained above the attacking shadows so far, meaning they traveled unhindered. They reminded Danny of a swarm of insects descending on a target.

At least they would if insects were mostly cubes.

As they drew nearer, Danny could make out the logo of the Guys In White on the larger ones. Hundreds of crates, metal containers, and storage boxes that clearly belonged to the best-funded ghost-hunters in the country now filled the air over Amity Park. And at the front of the swarm of boxes, his hands glowing, was the blue figure controlling them.

This wasn't what Danny normally associated with the annoying and harmless Box Ghost. His face was tense and strained, the sheer amount of concentration and focus impossible to miss. He was maintaining control of more boxes than Danny could count. He was even holding up metal shipping containers large enough to hold cars and at least two that could be used as small houses. The scale seemed unnerving as he flew towards Danny.

The Box Ghost stopped a short distance from him, floating above the rooftops. Danny saw him twist his right hand slightly and all the containers opened. Ecto-based guns, missiles, bazookas, motorcycles armed with strange attached weapons, and even what appeared to be a high-tech tank and a small fighter jet floated out of the boxes with the same glow surrounding them.

"Behold my container-based power," said the Box Ghost, his voice showing the same strain as his expression.

His right hand closed in a fist and every single weapon opened fire. Within seconds, an entire block-worth of the shadows were vaporized. And large chunks of the surrounding buildings. And they continued to fire, picking out dozens of the dark tendrils without missing a shot.

When the shadows finally tried to strike back, he jerked his left hand and a few empty boxes moved to block the attacks. Even as he defended himself from retaliation with the boxes, the weapons never stopped the assault.

The floating objects swirled around him like a deadly storm with the ghost in the center. Stolen high-tech weapons blasted and containers blocked. The coordination was perfect. He kept a solid attack and defense going without letting either suffer.

Somehow, the Box Ghost had become a real and actual threat. It was like that horrible future without the hook. With his stolen weaponry and amassed collection of boxes, he'd transformed into a force of nature. And he was blasting his way through the growing darkness like a man on a mission. There was nothing funny or pathetic about what was happening.

"Wow," muttered Skulker, floating over to Danny. "What happened to _him_?"

"Jazz, you are _never_ allowed to give any of my enemies a pep talk ever again," he said.

"As impressive as it might be, we can't stop and gawk," reminded Vlad. "There's still a lot of the city to cover."

Right. They needed to stop floating around and staring. No matter how much the scene deserved to be stared at since this was the _Box Ghost_. Danny managed to shake off the worst of the shock and tear his eyes away.

"Spread out. Cover as much area as possible," Danny said. "Keep attacking and keep the shadows at bay. Don't give them a chance to reform. We don't have as many people left outside to protect, so don't worry about holding back."

"That I can handle," announced Ember over the Fenton Phones, the musician having resisted the urge to approach the spectacle.

Another power chord, louder than before and empowered by the chanting support of the population of Amity Park, rang out. A wave of ecto-energy formed a few streets away. Like a tsunami, it swept across her section of the neighborhood as she worked her way up the musical scale. It washed over the thick shadows and left empty streets behind.

Between her renewed musical assault and the Box Ghost's heavy battery from his stolen weaponry (because _of course_ the Guys In White would store things like a _tank_ and a small _fighter jet_ in giant _boxes_ for convenience), they cleared vast swatches of the area. Vlad couldn't do the same levels of wide-spread destruction, but his more-intense pink ecto-rays provided surgical strikes as he flew in a different direction.

"Try not to die, Whelp," said Skulker gruffly. "It would be a shame to never hunt you again."

With what was clearly the equivalent of a wish for good luck, the hunter ghost switched to yet another of his built-in weapons and turned his jetpack towards new targets. Danny couldn't help noticing that he chose a direction that would take him near where Ember flew. He just refrained from commenting on it where Skulker would hear.

Yet another loud crash rang out and the shadowy tendrils grew thicker and longer. They started reaching above the buildings, forcing Danny to dodge or be skewered by the sharp spike-like shapes. He considered using his Ghostly wail to destroy a whole chunk of the thick darkness. But this was a fight of endurance and that power left him to drained. He couldn't risk it.

So as an electric guitar played in the background and the explosions from an ecto-energy-powered tank (a _tank_ … the Guys In White had a tank, of all things), Danny fired an ecto-ray from both hands into the thickest mass of darkness. As he poured power into his attack, the light burned away the shadows.

At least for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Yeah, I've been looking forward to giving the Box Ghost a cool moment. I mean, most characters will get something semi-cool in this story. But the Box Ghost doesn't get a lot of cool moments in the cartoon or most stories. So I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for quite some time. And Sidney gets to be really creative with his abilities too. Can you honestly say you were expecting him to start yanking the pipes out of the ground below the school grounds?
> 
> Yep. I had fun with this chapter.


End file.
